#the guy today was perfectly pleasant i just didn’t find him attractive or that interesting in person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plan-d-to-i · 3 years

Note

(google translate again, yeah)

(I forgot to thank you for the last answer, I really didn't know that the drama used the music of my compatriot, it was a pleasant surprise for me)

I don't know if anyone has asked you this before, but do you think JC was good with WWX as a kid?

I mean not just their childhood, but the time of their training in Gusu.

I really love JC, and I understand perfectly well that he is the most dick in character, but I love him precisely during my studies at Gusu, I can not give any arguments that then JC was directly GOOD to WWX, but he is clearly cared a little about him and even ... worried? at least that moment after the punishment where JC helped WWX get to the room...

Yay - I'm so happy to hear about Stravinsky :)

Hahah loving jc as the dick that he is is the way to do it! go for it. :) also, sorry this was so delayed I wanted to reread the Cloud Recesses arc so it would be fresh in my mind before answering.

In terms of jc the Cloud Recesses arc is perhaps the most 'mellow' we see him aside from the Lotus Pod Extra but for me it's still impossible to find him a worthwhile person. I can already see the faults in his character that I know will only get worse as he grows older. Canonically I don't see how he would have any friends studying in the Cloud Recesses if he didn't come as a package deal w Wei Wuxian. I mean I doubt jiang cheng would have any friends without WWX period. In fact jiang cheng doesn't make any friends over the course of 13 years. He's also unable to find a wife bc of his temperament and behavior...

What we can glean about their relationship in the Cloud Recesses arc (and even the Lotus Pod Extra) is that any time WWX gets a kind word or understanding from someone, jiang cheng scoffs at it. Any time someone shits on WWX, jc is there to agree, to relish the idea of WWX being punished, and shit on him some more. He would be an immensely exhausting person to be around. He doesnt believe in WWX's ideas and ingenuity, (as NHS does for example), he doesn't believe WWX is hurt, he always assumes the worst of him, he doesn't believe LWJ might like WWX. The only thing he ever seems to believe is that WWX will dishonor YunmengJiang and that WWX should be punished. So for a kid who supposedly wants his father's approval so badly he instead constantly acts like his mother's mouthpiece/minion. He reprimands WWX like he's trying to become Madam Yu 2.0. I see jc stans all the time being like oh he had to keep WWX in check bc WWX was such a lOOooose canon, for the good of the Clan!! lol listen JFM didn't give a f...about WWX's behavior (in his letter to LQR) why are you so concerned? JFM would have preferred for jc to try & save his peers in the Xuanwu cave or at least to understand why that was the correct course of action rather than for him to just sit in front of the class in the Cloud Recesses and tell WWX off for giving LQR as good as he got, while actually still breaking the rules himself but eschewing punishment.

salt up here, quotes below :

Even when Nie Huaisang picks up on the fact that WWX is being treated unfairly by LQR, jc dismisses it and piles on WWX instead.

Nie Huaisang said, “Old Man Lan really seems like he’s coming down especially harshly on you. Every time he reprimands someone, it’s always you.” Jiang Cheng grunted. “He deserves it. What kind of answer was that? He can get away with saying that sort of nonsense at home, but he had the nerve to say it to Lan Qiren’s face. He was practically asking for the old man to kill him!”

But does WWX get away with ANYTHING in Lotus Pier? When we know he is punished constantly for EVERYTHING? This is jiang cheng fully being his mother's mouth piece. It's not something WWX would get away with, it's something jc knows JFM wouldn't mind. Which is why he's so pissed off. Which begs the question if JFM would not be upset with WWX's behavior why does jc need to criticize him? Again :

A dark expression shadowed Jiang Cheng’s face, and his voice was filled with anger. “Why are you so proud of yourself? What is there to be proud of?! Is being told to get out some amazing accomplishment? You’re making our entire clan lose face!”

and his glee at the idea that WWX will be punished leaves a bad taste in one's mouth considering how WWX was perpetually punished in Lotus Pier by jiang cheng's mother for... existing.

Jiang Cheng smiled grimly. “Now that you’ve thoroughly offended both Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren, you’re basically dead tomorrow. No one’s going to clean up your corpse either.”

and again

Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.” Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”

Where others like NHS see value in WWX's thoughts

Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning.

jc is always dismissive of WWX's ideas. These are inventions that WWX realizes. Demonic cultivation in the first conversation and The Spirit-Attraction Flag and The Compass of Evil in the second:

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.”

Changing the topic, Wei Wuxian said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”

“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”

“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.

He's also a hypocrite. Because even though he berates WWX for misbehaving, he himself breaks the rules. He drinks, he even goads WWX into buying liquor, the only difference is that he doesn't get punished for it, and he doesn't feel like coming forward and getting punished for it :

Naturally, Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”

It's no wonder WWX is so impressed by LWJ's integrity in spite of his social status, when he's clearly used to the other dynamic :

“Lan Zhan, I really admire you,” Wei Wuxian said sincerely. “After I told you that you had to punish yourself too, you actually did it. You didn’t let yourself off at all. I can’t argue against that.”

A dynamic which is shown repeating in the Lotus Pod Extra where WWX is the only one to get punished for sunbathing, and which repeats here when Wei Wuxian here stops jiang cheng from confronting Zixuan over YanLi's honor (and jc's) and does it himself.

Zixuan :“Why don’t you ask what about her could make me satisfied?” he said in return.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng rose. Wei Wuxian pushed him away and stepped between them, smiling coldly. “You think you’re very satisfactory? As though you have the right to be so picky!”

Zixuan: “If she’s unhappy, then let her break off the engagement! I certainly don’t cherish your wonderful disciple-sister. If you cherish her so much, why don’t you take it up with your father? Doesn’t he love you more than his own son?”

After hearing the last sentence, Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed, and Wei Wuxian was no longer able to contain his own fury. He flew at Jin Zixuan, his fist raised.

WWX takes the punishment alone. Same way he offers to do when he hurts himself falling from a tree because jc threatened him with dogs. meanwhile jc is gleeful to see him being punished.

[Wei Wuxian] was kneeling on the stretch of pebble road to which Lan Qiren had assigned him when Jiang Cheng walked over from afar and mocked him. “You’re kneeling so obediently.”

“It’s not like you don’t know I have to do this all the time.” Wei Wuxian’s voice filled with schadenfreude. “But this Jin Zixuan guy, there’s no way he hasn’t been pampered and spoiled rotten since birth. No one’s ever forced him to kneel, I’m sure of it. If he doesn’t wind up crying for mommy and daddy today, I’m not named Wei.”....

Wei Wuxian "...It’s a good thing you didn’t do anything.”

“I was going to. If you hadn’t pushed me away, the other side of Jin Zixuan’s face would be hideous too.”

“Stop it. His face is uglier for being lopsided."

WWX is happy to have spared jc from getting into trouble but jc makes the whole thing about himself anyway (like everything else ever) and is upset JFM would rush over for WWX - in his mind. Even though JFM clearly had to rush over to meet with Jin Guangshan not to coddle WWX in any way.

"Jiang Fengmian had never rushed to another clan in less than a day because of him. Regardless of whether what happened was big or small, or good or bad." Never

WWX on the other hand tries to be observant of jc's feelings and reassure him & distract him from his moods :

When Wei Wuxian saw Jiang Cheng’s melancholy expression, he thought he was still upset with what Jin Zixuan said. “You should leave. You don’t need to keep me company any longer. If Lan Wangji comes again, he’ll catch you. If you have time, you should find Jin Zixuan and watch his pitiful kneeling.”

Later in the book after nearly dying in the Xuanwu cave WWX leaves his sick bed to run after jc and comfort him after his mother's rant, even though WWX had to listen to his parents (and himself) being slandered by YZY. jc doesn't spare any thoughts for how other people might be feeling or suffering. His entire perception of the world is centered around himself. To him even WWX's greatest fear doesn't generate empathy, only amusement or later on a form of torture.

From that point onward, they made trouble everywhere together, and if they encountered a dog, Jiang Cheng would always chase it away for him, then enjoy a peal of derisive, unbridled laughter at Wei Wuxian’s expense beneath whichever tree the boy had leapt atop.

he grew up on the streets, often having to fight for food with vicious dogs. After several bites and chases, he gradually became extremely scared of all dogs, no matter the size. Jiang Cheng laughed at him because of this quite a lot of times.

This brings me to the last point. jc's resentment of WWX's interest in Lan Zhan, or in a serious friendship outside of him. I see so many ppl say that bc WWX fought he was kicked out of the Cloud Recesses early... but was he?

Jiang Cheng was somewhat taken aback. “Lan Wangji? What was he doing here? He still has the nerve to come see you again?”

“Yeah, I think his bravery is laudable if he still has the nerve to come see me. His uncle probably told him to check on me and see if I was kneeling properly.”

Jiang Cheng’s instincts were sending him ominous signals. “So were you kneeling properly?”

“I was then,” Wei Wuxian replied. “But I waited for him to walk away a bit, then took a tree branch, lowered my head, and dug out a hole in the dirt near me. It’s the pile right by your foot—there are ant tunnels there. It took me so much effort to find them. Anyway, I waited for him to turn back and see my shoulders shaking. He had to have thought I was crying, so he came back and asked. You should have seen his face when he caught sight of the ant tunnels!

“…” Jiang Cheng said, “Why don’t you just get the hell out and go back to Yunmeng? I bet he never wants to see you again.”

Thus, that evening, Wei Wuxian packed up his things, got the hell out, and went back to Yunmeng with Jiang Fengmian.

Repeatedly throught his stay in the Cloud Recesses even while NHS was observing that LWJ's behavior around WWX was strange and unique, jc was telling WWX he is hated and bothersome. When WWX wanted to apologize to LWJ jc is completely dismissive of it :

“He hates me already? I was thinking of apologizing to him,” Wei Wuxian said.

“Oh, so you want to apologize now? It’s too late!” Jiang Cheng said derisively. “He’s exactly like his uncle. He thinks you’ve been wicked ever since you were an embryo, so it’s beneath his dignity to pay you any attention.”

Later on when WWX mentioned wanting to invite LWJ to Lotus Pier jc categorically says no.

“Jiang Cheng had on a stern expression, “Let’s make this clear. I don’t want him to come, anyhow. Don’t invite him.”

BONUS

jc also always doubts WWX. He suspects him immediately of wrongdoings. He doesn't believe that getting hit with the discipline ruler in Cloud Recesses actually hurt him until LXC confirms that WWX might take more than a few days to heal. He doesn't understand WWX is in actual trouble from the Waterborne abyss and assumes he's fooling around luckily Lan Zhan is there to rescue him:

The disciple’s lower body had already been swallowed by the black whirlpool. It spun faster and faster, and he continued to sink deeper and deeper, as though something hidden beneath the water was pulling down on his legs.

Mounted on Sandu, Jiang Cheng had risen calmly until he was about sixty meters above the whirlpool before he looked down. Filled with displeasure at what he saw, he shouted and dove down. “What are you up to now?!”

The suction force inside Lake Biling grew ever stronger. Wei Wuxian’s sword was optimized for agility, and consequently, its strength happened to fall just short, and they were nearly pulled to the surface of the lake. Wei Wuxian steadied himself and held on to Su She with both hands.

“Someone help! If I can’t pull him up soon, I’ll have to let go!” he shouted.

Suddenly, the back of Wei Wuxian’s collar tightened, and his body was lifted into the air. He twisted his neck and saw Lan Wangji holding him up with one hand.

He maintains this same mindset when he tries to whip LWJ and WWX as they're attempting to leave Lotus Pier after the ancestral hall confrontation when WWX passes out.

Is jc evil in the Cloud Recesses ? No. He's just an annoying, basic, disagreeable asshole who doesn't bring anything positive to someone like WWX. People like jc become obsessed with kind, outgoing, generous people, people who don't set boundaries on what they give and what others take in their friendships. Even though they're dependent on them for their social interactions, because who else would socialize with them willingly, they resent them in equal measure, but at the same time they wouldn't be drawn to another selfish, self centered piece of shit person like themselves.

On a personal note, even Cloud Recesses jiang cheng is someone I would exclude from any personal friend group. Friendship with him is adding a minefield of jealousies and snide comments to every interaction. Things that then others will need to compensate around because he won't compromise or empathize w issues outside of his own concerns.

Translation source : x

#This is long af because I wanted to have one post where I included everything #I’ve bitched about jc’s behavior in the cloud recesses for a long time so it was time to put down the quotes #mdzs #Cloud Recesses #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #Nie Huaisang #jiang cheng

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bobohu4eva · 3 years

Text

Sweet Tooth (Part 2)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Royalty AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, mutual pining

Summary: Life as the palace baker got a lot more interesting after catching the devastatingly cute prince sneaking around your kitchen.

WC: 4.3k

Tag List: @wooya1224 @dixnysustae @bbhile @geniusloey @blahblahblah-boo @leave-me-in-the-summertime

Masterlist

“Good morning!”

The egg hit the counter with more force than intended, enough to be smashed completely and leave your hand a sticky mess.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” You heard from behind you accompanied by a giggle.

You turned around, smiling and trying your best to play it cool. The devastatingly cute prince had not just seen you smash an egg on the counter. And he definitely didn't notice how you were hiding your egg covered hand behind your back. Hopefully. At least that’s what you told yourself for the sake of your sanity.

You’d been jumpy for a reason. You knew he would be there again today, and you still didn’t quite know what to do about it or how to act around the guy. Sure he was funny and cute and honestly quite pleasant to be around but he was still very much the prince.

“I’m okay! Good morning to you as well.” You bowed to him before quickly finding something to clean the raw egg off your hand and work table.

Luckily he didn’t comment on your little egg mishap any further. Instead he rounded the table until he was standing on the other side of it and he pulled up a stool and sat down the same way he had the day before, elbow on the table, with his chin resting on his hands looking at you expectantly.

“So? Fruit tart?”

“Yes, fruit tart. Shall we get started?” He quickly nodded. “Would you like me to only show you how I make it or do you want to do some of it too?”

“Oh, uh, I hadn’t really thought about that… Can I just jump in if there's something that looks easy?”

A smile spread across your lips. You’d almost forgotten in the short 24 hours you hadn’t seen him just how non-aristocratic the man acted, but what a relief it was.

“Yes, if that’s what you’d like. Let’s get started? The first thing we need to make is the tart dough.”

As you started to gather your ingredients you found it more and more difficult to focus. He wasn’t wearing pajamas anymore, he was wearing what the princes usually wear. It was very attractive. He looked, well, like a damn prince. And you were expected to just act normal? When he strolled into your bakery looking that good?? It felt very unfair. He was just wearing a thin white cotton shirt and black pants but you couldn’t help but ogle him when he wasn’t looking. His broad back, the swell of his chest, it was too much to handle. Combined with the messy head of hair and lazy smile, it had you weak in the knees.

You combined your flour, sugar, and butter and started to add your water with shaky hands, before beginning to knead it.

“Can I do that?” He asked as he got up and walked over to your side of the table.

You nodded and handed him the dough and watched as he started to clumsily smack it against the table. That was when you noticed his hands, and how pretty they were. They were slender but not bony, and you found your mind wandering off, wondering how they would feel holding yours. They were probably so soft. The mole on his thumb was so cute.

“Don’t do too much, or else the dough will get tough.” You said quickly as you snapped back to reality, reaching for the dough and he let go of it. You internally cursed yourself for getting carried away daydreaming about the man’s hands of all things.

He stayed standing next to you, watching you, as you started to roll the ball of dough out into a big enough circle to fill your tart pan. You picked it up and started to press it into the edges and the whole time you were incredibly aware of his eyes on you. You almost wished he would do something embarrassing again so you could stop being so nervous.

“You’re so quiet today.”

“People tend to like me better when I talk less.”

You frowned. “I liked talking with you yesterday.”

You could’ve sworn you saw the man blush, but you pushed the thought aside, not wanting to think about that while you had a task to complete. It would be all too embarrassing if you messed up a mere fruit tart just because there was a pretty boy distracting you.

And he couldn’t actually be blushing at that. Right?

“I expected you to be stuck up, but you aren’t at all. That was a big relief. And I think you’re kind of funny. And like I said yesterday, it can get lonely here so I’m happy to have some company.”

“You can still ask me to leave any time if I’m getting bothersome, I’ll understand.”

You looked up to meet eyes with him and gave him a small smile. You didn’t quite understand why he said such things but you very much felt the need to comfort the guy anyway.

“You aren’t bothersome. It’s nice to have someone to talk to here.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that a lot.”

He was looking down at the table now, and this time you knew he was blushing. His pink cheeks had pulled up into a small smile. Cute.

“Is that ready to bake?” He asked when he saw that you were done touching the dough.

You nodded, and before you could react he picked up the pan and walked it over to the oven before putting it inside and closing the door.

It wasn’t on purpose that you were being so quiet now. You were getting quite flustered and didn’t want to say anything embarrassing. He was the prince, you couldn’t exactly explain to him that you were having trouble focusing because of how attractive he was.

“So? What now?”

You were quickly brought back to reality by his words and realized you’d been staring at him the whole time. Like a weirdo. You could only pray that he wasn’t catching on to your odd behavior.

“The filling!” You said, a bit too loudly, as you shook yourself out of your thoughts.

You started grabbing ingredients again, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him. Once you had everything gathered, you combined the egg, sugar, and starch and handed the bowl to him.

“Do you want to mix it?”

He nodded with an adorably excited look on his face as he took the bowl from you and started to whisk the mixture together. In the meantime you began to heat up your fruit puree, and by the time it was warm enough you took the bowl from him and started to temper the egg mixture into the hot fruit. You put it back on the heat for a little while longer to make sure it got thick enough and by the time it was done it was time to take the crust out of the oven as well.

The whole time you carefully poured the filling into the crust you knew his eyes were on you but you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge him, out of fear of what you might do to embarrass yourself if you did. It was too quiet for too long. You still hadn’t spoken when you started to gather various fruits to start chopping up to put on top of the tart.

“I can leave if you really don’t want me here, you don’t have to lie and tell me it’s okay just because I’m the prince, I can tell I’m bothering you.” He mumbled and you finally brought yourself to look him in the eyes.

He looked upset. Your heart ached. You realized just how cold your actions must’ve come across to him, even though you hadn’t meant it that way at all.

“No! I promise you aren’t bothering me, really, I just… I’m not used to having someone back here with me watching me, especially someone like you.”

Much to your disappointment this didn’t seem to cheer him up, his face remained just as sad as it had looked a second ago.

“Someone like me?”

“You know, royalty. I work for your family after all, so it’s a bit nerve wracking for you to watch everything I do.”

“Oh…” His face softened a bit, and it seemed to you that he genuinely hadn’t considered that yet. “I’m sorry, but you really don’t have to be nervous, I won’t mind even if you mess something up. I promise I’m nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. He was a nice person, you knew that much already, if anything he could stand to be a bit more sure of himself. You felt bad that you’d hurt his feelings so easily by making him think he was being a nuisance.

“You are really nice, I can tell that much, I guess I just don’t really know you yet.”

“Well then what would you like to know about me? Ask away, I’m an open book.”

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised, wondering what you could even ask someone like him.

“Well, what’s it like being the prince?”

He frowned, obviously disappointed with your question. “Not great. Next question.”

Not great?

“Well what’s something you do like about it?”

He tilted his head to the side and pushed out his bottom lip a bit as he thought of an answer. You wondered if he did this on purpose, if he knew how adorable he was and liked to see you get all riled up because of him, but he seemed too oblivious for that to be the case.

After a few seconds his lips formed a wide grin and his eyes met yours. “The food.” He said.

That time you knew he saw you blush, and you even had to cover your mouth as a surprised laugh rolled off your lips.

“I’m just being honest, I don’t care about power and titles and all that, and I don’t need to live in a castle to be happy. I’m a simple man. But the food is a really nice bonus.”

“The cooks are really talented, I can see why you like that so much.” You said, now focusing back on the fruit you were chopping up.

“You too though, and sweets are my favorite.” He said, picking up a piece of strawberry you had just chopped to put on the tart and popping it into his mouth instead.

Your eyes traveled from his hand, as it grabbed the piece of fruit, to his face as he brought it to his perfectly smooth, pink, lips. You watched his face as he ate the strawberry, not realizing that you were once again staring.

“Is there something on my face?” He asked, with the cutest look of confusion on his face.

Somehow, you felt yourself blush even harder at that. “No, sorry, I just spaced out for a second.” You lied.

“Why is your face so red?”

“Is it?” You tried your best to act casual, quickly changing the subject. “So what do princes do in their free time?”

He made that same face again, the little pout that showed you he was thinking of an answer.

“Well, I like to get out of the palace. Take my horse out into the woods or through town, anything to get out and feel some fresh air and not be bothered. Or go on a walk through the gardens. I’ve seen you there a few times, by the way, reading.”

“Oh…” You didn’t quite know how to respond. You must’ve been so caught up in your books that you’d never noticed when he was there.

“I sometimes wondered who you were, but I didn’t want to bother you since you always seemed so invested in what you were doing.”

You felt another twinge of embarrassment, thinking about the romance novels you would sometimes spend hours totally consumed in.

“Well, next time you should come say hello if you see me.”

His cheeks and ears started to look like they were turning pink again, although you couldn’t understand why. He had looked down at the table, and one hand was scratching the back of his neck. He had paused. He almost looked a bit nervous.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we be friends?”

His eyes finally looked up to meet yours and the pout on his face as he nervously waited for your response made you feel crazy. There was no way in hell you could look back at him when he looked like that and say no.

You put a small smile to your lips and nodded, and to your relief his face immediately lit up into a wide smile.

“Thank you, Creampuff.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“I have to come up with a stupid name for you too now that we’re friends you know.”

“Well, then I am greatly looking forward to what you can come up with.“ He said grinning, and taking another piece of fruit you’d just carefully sliced.

“If you eat all my fruit before it can go on top it’s not going to be much of a fruit tart!”

He was giggling hysterically now, making a show of it, grabbing several more pieces of fruit and holding them up in the air, out of your reach..

“That’s okay, the topping is the best part anyway.” He snickered as he brought another piece of your oh so painstakingly chopped fruit to his lips.

Was it a good idea to befriend the prince? Probably not, however you didn’t want to think too hard about that since it was too late now anyway.

You had a fruit tart to finish, so you dragged your mind back to the task at hand.

“Baekhyun, do you want to put the fruit on top? Or are you just going to eat all of it as is?” You teased, gesturing towards your still naked tart with the pile of chopped fruit next to it.

“Okay okay I guess I can put some on top too.”

You watched as he started arranging the variously shaped fruit pieces atop the tart, and you once again marveled at his hands.

“So do I get help, or do I have to figure this part out myself? You always make them look so pretty, I don’t think I have the same artistic touch you do.”

You smiled at the compliment, more than you probably should have. Something about this guy enjoying your work so much was just too good to be true.

You felt silly. So silly. Has it really been so long since you’d had an interaction with a cute boy that you simply couldn’t handle yourself? He had to notice by now. It had to be painfully obvious why you were so flustered, right?

At that point you were openly staring. Luckily for you, he was actually pretty focused on making the tart look nice, so he didn’t seem to notice your eyes on him. His fingers had a slight sheen to them from the juices from the fruit and it took everything in you to not grab his pretty hands and lick them clean yourself.

“So? Y/n?”

You hadn’t even answered his question yet and you were already off in a little daydream about him.

You were crazy. You took a deep breath, recomposing yourself for the nth time.

“I’d like to see what you come up with.” You said, trying to sound as playful as you possible with how hard your heart was beating.

He gave you a smirk that told you he had accepted your challenge. His focus went back to the table and he started carefully arranging and rearranging his work.

Then, he was finished. The last of the fruit had been placed atop the cream filled crust. It actually looked okay, you were even slightly impressed with his artistic vision.

“How did I do?” You heard his ask as he set down his finished creation and looked at you with a pleased grin. He took his bottom lip between his perfect teeth, looking at you with those familiar puppy eyes and you wanted to scream at how cute he looked right then.

“It looks really nice. Not how I would’ve done it, but pretty.”

“Well if I did it exactly how you do it I would just be copying you and you wanted to see what I could do so how could I possibly even think to do something so unoriginal?” He looked very pleased with your response.

“You wouldn’t be able to make it look like mine even if you did try to. You just don’t have that special touch.” You responded, surprising yourself with your teasing tone.

Baekhyun perked up at your words, raising an eyebrow at you.

“What? You said it yourself earlier.” He really had. But you knew he was ready to fight you about it now anyway.

“I just need more chances to prove myself, but I think I did pretty damn good just now for someone who hasn’t prepared his own food in his life ever.”

“You’re so spoiled.” You giggled, plucking a piece of fruit off the tart and placing it between your lips, keeping your eyes locked with his. You weren’t sure where this new surge of confidence was coming from, but you decided to just go with it.

“Hey! I can’t help who I was born as!”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t still spoiled.”

“You’re so mean to me.” He whined, obviously just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately it worked very well for him. His little pout when he pushed out his bottom lip and furrowed his brows ever so slightly, was almost too cute to handle.

“Yeah, but you’re still here with me for some reason. Now are you finally going to eat your tart?”

He’d once again gone all bashful on you, acting like you were somehow the one in charge here when his family basically owned you.

“Can you cut it?” The words rolled off his lips softly.

You nodded, grabbing the sharpest knife you had, and started cutting the tart into slices.

It immediately felt wrong. You realized you’d fucked up.

The filling was still too warm to cut. It wasn’t fully set. It would start oozing into a big puddle of fruit goo as soon as you’d touch it.

It was so obvious. Of course you shouldn’t have cut into it already. Of course it wasn’t ready yet. You knew that, but your mind had been elsewhere. It was a dumb, dumb mistake and you felt it start to chip away at the last bit of sanity you had left.

You closed your eyes, clenching your jaw as you made a second cut, but you knew you were only making matters worse. It was already ruined. You put your knife down and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fight the tightness in your chest and the tears that were building in your eyes.

“Creampuff?”

The nickname just made it hurt more. The way he said it so softly was too cruel. You failed to suppress the sob that wracked through you and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks, which were now deeply tinted with your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.” You choked out. “I messed it up. It’s ruined.”

“Huh?” The look on his face as he watched you cry could only be described as a combination of worry and panic.

He didn’t get it. It still looked fine. Before you could stop him he picked up a piece and you watched as the beautiful and delicious little project you’d spent all morning working on with him fell apart. His carefully arranged fruit topping was destroyed as the filing slowly sagged into the missing gap and his slice turned into a messy glob.

“Where are the spoons?”

You looked at him like he was crazy.

You watched as he picked up the two forks on the table. “I don’t think a fork is going to work for this, can you give me a spoon please?”

You were a wreck. You were crying, sobbing even, and here he was asking you for a spoon so he could try at least one pathetic bite of your fruit tart turned pudding mess.

“Y/n?” It was barely a whisper this time. “Why are you crying? I said it’s okay even if you mess up. I’m not mad at you.”

Swallowing your tears, you reached into a nearby drawer, grabbed hastily at its contents, and shoved a spoon into his hand.

It was huge. The kind of spoon that was usually used for mixing large salads. You didn’t even understand why you had such a monstrosity in your little bakery.

Baekhyun stared at the ridiculous instrument you had just thrust into his unsuspecting palm as you let out a few more sniffles.

Then he let out a loud laugh. “This thing?!” He thought it was hilarious. “Are you trying to fatten me up? You know my mom always told me that my good looks were the only good thing I have going for me, don’t go ruining that now. I can’t afford to get chubby.”

You let out a whine and opened the drawer again, this time paying better attention to what you were grabbing. You pulled out two normal sized spoons.

He watched as you set them down on the table and frowned when he saw how upset you still looked, despite his joking around. You didn’t touch your spoon, still too upset to want to try a bite of your mistake. He didn’t seem to care though, immediately scooping up a spoonful and taking a large bite.

He let out a pleased hum as he finished his bite. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset, this is still pretty amazing if you ask me, thank you so much for letting me make it with you.”

He genuinely seemed to not mind. He kept happily eating it. But you didn’t feel any better. This was your job, your thing, and he’d seen you make such a stupid mistake, and on just the second day he’d met you. It was embarrassing more than anything else. What if he thinks you’re bad at your job?

“I’m sorry.” You let out again quietly and this time he didn’t tease you or make a dumb joke. He looked concerned. When you felt a tear roll down your cheek, he looked scared.

“Why are you still crying?” He put his spoon down. He was rounding the table to walk to the other side, to where you were standing. Once he was standing directly in front of you he froze. He’d lifted one arm slightly, as if he was reaching out for you, but it quickly dropped to his side again. You took a shaky step back but he moved with you.

“I promise I’m not here to judge you, I just wanted some time with someone who’s nice to me for once. And the tart is still amazing. And I know everything else you make is amazing too, because I’ve been eating it for years.”

You made the mistake of looking up into his big brown eyes. His cute slightly droopy looking eyes that sat perfectly atop his smooth, round cheeks. The look he gave you was too sweet to bear. You let out another sob.

He turned towards the table. He grabbed your spoon, hastily taking a scoop and shoving it into your mouth before you even had time to react.

“See? It’s good. Really good. Who cares if it melted or whatever. That’s like, the least important part. It’s food. It’s supposed to taste good. And it tastes super fucking good.”

You chewed slowly as he spoke, still standing far too close for comfort. He watched as you ate with tear stained cheeks. When you swallowed his hand moved. He was reaching for your face. You felt his thumb lightly brush the corner of your mouth, removing the small drop of cream that had ended up there. He brought his finger back up to his lips and he licked off the bit of cream, eyes never leaving yours.

“Delicious.” He whispered.

Panic was setting in now. You couldn’t find it in yourself to cry anymore. You felt like you needed to escape. You couldn’t trust yourself to not make a fool of yourself right now, even more than you already had. The poor guy would probably never wanna come bake with you again. The thought of not spending time with him again like this hurt more than you expected it to.

You stared again, too taken aback by his actions to get any words out. He was closer now. You weren’t quite sure when he’d gotten so close, close enough that you could smell the lingering scent of sweet fruit on his breath.

He was right there, and he was staring right back at you, close enough to touch. Your mind was slowing down and you swore you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, before he cleared his throat and took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I think I should go. The tart is amazing, really. Thank you again.”

He turned to leave, and the words left you before you had time to think about it. “Are you still going to come back?”

He turned back to look at you, a reassuring smile on his pretty face. “Of course, Creampuff.”

Next Chapter

#exo #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #exo fic #exo fluff #exo smut

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heliads · 4 years

Text

I’ll Protect You

When a mysterious death threat shows up at your front door from Gerard Argent, you know who you have to go to if you want to survive- Scott McCall.

masterlist

Things were going perfectly fine up until the moment you found the death threat on your front door. It was a pleasant, sunny morning. You had actually woken up without feeling exhausted, which was nice. It was shaping up to be an agreeable day. Then, you had heard the sharp knock on your door.

Yawning, you stumble blearily to the front door. Your parents, tired after long days of work, were still blissfully asleep and so the responsibility for answering whatever insistently knocking early-morning caller fell squarely on your shoulders.

Oddly enough, by the time you pull open the plain wooden door, your would-be guest has vanished. You poke your head out of the door, blinking in the bright light of morning, but you can’t see anybody. Strange.

You’re just about to head back inside and dismiss the whole venture as one of the younger neighbourhood kids playing a prank on you when you spot the folded paper lying a few feet away from the doorstep. Frowning, you pad over to it and pick it up, but your confused look turns into a troubled stare when you unfold the plain, unwrinkled note. It doesn’t say much, just a few words typed onto the stiff white paper.

We know what you are. We will be coming for you.

This alone spells danger, but it’s the grey heading at the top of the paper that really starts to worry you. This threat is sent by the Argents, legendary hunters of people exactly like you. And if they know what you are, you’ll be dead by morning for sure.

Checking the empty streets one last time for possible messengers, you quickly hurry back inside, slumping down into a nearby chair. Your parents don’t know you’re a werewolf, hell, neither do any of your friends. You’ve kept your supernatural identity a locked-away secret that only you know. You’ve never breathed a word about it, never gone wandering on full moons, and barely even used your supernatural abilities at all. How do the Argents know?

Of course, it’s not how they know that you should be focusing on. Regardless of what they did to find out your secret, they’ll be coming for you. You stare out of the window unseeingly, turning things over in your mind until you arrive at one last-ditch plan to save yourself.

Just as you’ve feared, there are people watching you from the second you walk through the doors of Beacon Hills High School. You’ve suspected for some time that there are a few junior hunters attending your school, and your theory is proven correct when they watch your every step. No one else seems to know about the fact that you’re a werewolf, but there’s a definite group of four or five people shadowing you no matter where you go.

Thankfully, the one class you need the most is your first period of the day. You head gratefully into your AP Bio class, nodding a distracted greeting to your teacher, who announces that you’ll be starting a partner project. Careful to avoid suspicion from the few potential hunters in the front, you slide quietly into a seat next to one particular dark-haired boy.

When Scott McCall notices you sitting next to him, he looks at you in confusion. “Not to be rude, but don’t you usually sit next to-” You cut him off briskly, pulling out your textbook and turning to the assigned page. “Yeah, but Ms. Finch said partners so I figured it would be alright.” You lean over the book as if starting to work on the assignment, but speak instead in a hushed tone.

“I need your help. It’s something really important.” Scott nods slowly. “Okay, what do you need help with?” You hesitate for a moment, deliberating on how best to explain your situation. “It’s the Argents. I know you’re a True Alpha, I need your help so they don’t kill me.”

Scott looks stunned for a second, then turns to you. “You’re a werewolf. How did I not know about that?” You laugh lightly. “I’ve been trying to keep it under wraps, but I found a death threat at my doorstep today from the Argents, and some of the wannabe hunters have been trailing me all day. I don’t know what to do.” Without attracting too much suspicion, you fish the note out of your backpack and hand it to Scott, who reads it quickly before giving it back to you.”

“That’s definitely a problem. Tell you what- head over to my house tonight after school. I'll get Stiles and the others to show up too, and we can all figure out what to do to make sure you’re alright.” You flash him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I mean it.” Scott returns your smile. “Hey, no problem. We’ve been needing to take care of the Argents for a while, anyway.”

The end of the day cannot arrive quickly enough, and you’re more than happy to quietly depart for Scott’s house. The hunters in the school have been eyeing you all day like you’re a prize pig they can’t wait to slaughter, instead of the fearsome monster that they all seem to fear.

By the time you manage to shake your followers and arrive at Scott's house undetected, the rest of the McCall pack is waiting for you. Scott ushers you inside, where everyone is gathered around the kitchen table, ready to help you with your little problem.

You pull the note you found earlier from your backpack and place it on the table, unfolding it so everyone can see the threat as well as the unmistakable logo of the Argents. Malia looks at it, thinking. “Chris Argent is still our ally, so this has to be Gerard’s doing. I thought we scared him out of town, though?”

Scott sighs. “I doubt we’d ever be that lucky. He’s probably trying to make his way back into Beacon Hills slowly, by taking out a wolf here and there.” Stiles squints up at you. “Also, Y/N, why didn’t you tell any of us you were a werewolf? We could have kept you more safe. I thought lone wolves were always unprotected.”

You tilt your head in acknowledgement. “Lone wolves face a lot more risk, that’s true. The thing is, I was trying my best to keep the whole werewolf thing a secret. I figured it would be easier to pretend to be a human if no one knew, and if I hung out with you guys, it would be pretty obvious that I was a supernatural of some sort.”

You look around the room, registering the confused looks on the faces of Scott and his friends. You spread your hands out in front of you, feeling slightly defensive. “Look, everyone who’s been associated with your friend group is either a supernatural or has been one at one point. If I wanted to make the hunters think I was a human, I probably wouldn’t be hanging out with the group that’s like 90% supernatural.”

Lydia nods, trying to hide a smile. “Y/N’s not wrong. I mean, Scott was a werewolf, then Malia was a werecoyote. Kira was human until she was revealed to be a kitsune, Liam was human until he was bitten, I thought I was human until I found out I was a banshee, Hayden and Corey became chimeras, Mason was host to the Beast, and even Stiles had to become the Nogitsune for a short while. Basically everyone in the pack has been a supernatural at one point.”

Stiles nods slowly. “I mean, I guess. I never thought about it that way.” Scott clears his throat. “Can we get back to the issue at hand? If Gerard Argent is coming back, then that spells bad news for Y/N. I’d like to make sure she lives long enough to graduate high school.” You laugh at that. “Me too. That sounds good.”

After a lengthy discussion, you and the McCall pack figure out what to do. You give them each directions to your house, and then the plan is set into motion.

By the time you make it back to your house, the sun is just starting to set. You toss your backpack into a corner of the room and make yourself a snack. Your parents are still at work, so the house appears deserted to any onlookers.

Just as you had feared, there’s another knock on the door. A voice calls out to you- “Come on out, Y/N. We know you’re there.” You give yourself a moment to collect yourself, then square your shoulders and walk to the door. When you pull it open, you find yourself face to face with at least half a dozen hunters, Gerard Argent at the front.

Gerard fixes you with a glare. “Did you really think that you could live freely and not be found out? We do not tolerate werewolves, a lesson you’ll be learning tonight. Beacon Hills is for the humans.” He gestures to one of the hunters, who hands him a crossbow. “Lone wolves do not survive for long out here. It’s a shame- you really should have known better than to be alone in a town like this.”

Gerard points the crossbow at you, an arrow aimed at the center of your throat. Before he can fire the weapon, however, a voice comes from behind you. “She’s not alone.”

Scott McCall steps out of the house, standing in between you and the hunter. The rest of the pack appears out of nowhere, encircling the hunters, who now look tense and afraid. Scott folds his arms over his chest, staring down at Gerard. “Do you remember the last time we spoke? We made a deal, one that is in your best interests to keep. The promise was that if you and your hunters left the supernaturals of Beacon Hills alone, we wouldn’t kill you on the spot.”

Scott gestures around to the pack. “We have weapons and powers that will allow us to take all of you down in the blink of an eye. So I’ll remind you, one last time, to honor our agreement. It’s as much for our benefit as it is for yours.”

Gerard maintains the eye contact for a moment longer, then looks away, nodding at his hunters to stand down. As they file out, Scott speaks one last time. “Y/N is with us. We have her back. If you even look at her again, I will slit your throat with my own claws.” Gerard spits out a few last words about how this is going ‘just as he had planned’ and that he is ‘warning you, Scott McCall, pride goeth before the fall’ before stumping away with the rest of his hunters.

Scott turns to you with a smile as the pack files inside your house. “See, that went pretty well. I don’t think they’re going to bother you again.” You laugh. “No, I think most of those guys looked like they’d rather move to Antarctica rather than have to deal with any of the pack again. They looked terrified.”

Scott laughs as well, but turns serious. “If you ever feel threatened again, please come find me. I know we just met and all, but I want to keep you safe.” You raise an eyebrow, smiling. “Man, I’d heard about Scott McCall’s need to save everyone, but isn’t this a little much?” Scott can’t help a smile. “You’re important to me, Y/N. I want to protect you.” You grin and nod. “Sounds like a plan. We’ll keep in touch.”

#teen wolf #scott mccall #scott mccall imagine #scott mccall x reader #scott mccall imagines #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf scott

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alex-ruins-everything · 4 years

Text

Turning Pages - Chapter 3

Intrulogical bookshop au! Read the whole thing on ao3 here

Logan admittedly was shocked with himself for turning down the offer of coffee with Roman’s brother. He had been equally shocked that the other had actually purchased a book when he crashed the reading of the children’s book. Sure the man with the white streak of hair had crossed his mind a few times in the past few days, mostly when he saw Roman enter the shop to bother Virgil. Would Remus be barging in again? He had convinced himself the thought only crossed his mind because of how destructive the man was. He messed up the stands and shouted in the shop...he was like a tornado or a car crash. Terrible but impossible to look away from. Hence why he had been a little taken aback when he spotted that same white streak sitting with the kids in a circle while Patton went through his Saturday reading circle.

“Who was that guy?” Patton asked during a lull in the customers. “He came and listened to the reading.” “That would be Remus. Roman’s twin brother. You were on break the first time he came in,” Logan responded, smoothing down the front of the apron. “Perhaps word of Patton’s Reading Circle has begun to reach a broader audience.”

That got a laugh from Patton which told Logan he was gonna drop the questions about Remus. Good. There were much more important things to think about than rowdy men with eyes that were so green they looked like toxic waste. Logan wondered if he wore contacts because Roman’s were hazel at best, but Remus’ seemed to glow. No- he shut that line of thinking down, relieved when a customer came in and asked to be shown to the biography section. Work was a great distraction when one’s mind began to be plagued by things he’d rather not think about. After the man was helped the customer’s started to thin, the busy morning turning into a dead zone evening. That was the way it worked around here. Nobody really came into the shop unless there was an event, which is what made Patton and his children’s books so imperative.

Logan didn’t mind being at the shop all day. Patton had opened, but Logan had shown up thirty minutes early just to ensure it was going smoothly. By the time it was closing he was hardly tired, having chosen two new books to read over the course of the day, blatantly ignoring the marine biology section despite his interest having been piqued by a certain encyclopedia. The shop was closed on Sundays so he had no work tomorrow, and Monday was his day off, an unnecessary requirement that Mr. Sanders had put into place for every employee. Something about not working oneself into the ground. Still, his day of absence meant he had to get everything spic and span for Monday. He was out by 6:15, his shift technically ended at 6 since the shop closed at 5. He had said goodbye to Patton around 3 so it was just him alone with the books, something that might seem eerie to some, but it was when he felt most comfortable.

The sun was still out when he left, locking the door behind him. The summer air was warm, but today luckily wasn’t humid. Leaving the air conditioned store into humid weather always made his glasses fog up with condensation. Instead today the warmth just settled pleasantly into his skin. The town they lived in was small, the bookshop nestled among other family owned businesses, any chain store off in the shopping mall fifteen miles away. It was quiet and that was what Logan liked. He took the long way home, walking through the park instead of the direct route. As he passed the pond with the geese sitting around it he couldn’t help but wonder if these were the poor birds that had fallen prey to Remus Kingsley’s antics.

“Perhaps we have something in common, my fowl feathered friends,” he said as a line of them crossed the pathway.

Logan waited for the geese to finish crossing before continuing on, the sunlight bouncing off the leaves of the trees and illuminating the people sitting on the benches. A mother and her young children, two younger boys with skateboards, and couples. Lots and lots of couples. Holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes. Logan noted it was the type of stuff Roman always romanticized. It was the kind of stuff he had always found personally trivial and unnecessary. He gave a content sigh once he finally reached his apartment, taking the steps up to the fourth floor since the elevator was nearly always out of order. He didn’t mind, though. The stairs were an excellent form of exercise which was a vital part to living a healthy life.

His evening was calm, pleasant even. He cooked himself dinner just as he always did, enjoying his meal at the table with soft music playing in the background. For dessert he was even fortunate enough to have some cookies Patton had given him which he snuck some of his favorite jam onto. Logan had no work to catch up on so he settled onto his sofa with a book, flipping through the pages happily until a character description caught his attention. Green eyes. He wondered if they were a muted green or bright and exciting like Remus’-- and then he promptly banished that thought from his mind.

It was highly unreasonable to entertain these continuous thoughts about Remus Kingsley. Firstly he seemed to be a bringer of chaos, a concept that Logan did not appreciate. Logan appreciated order and routine, he doubted Remus had either of those things. Secondly, Remus is Roman’s brother. Logan is not great at having friends, but he considers Roman an acquaintance of his. After all, on occasion he has been invited out with Patton and Virgil and Roman seemed to usually be there. That was his social group, and he was fairly certain there was some sort of unspoken rule about dating family members of your acquaintances. Thirdly, and most importantly, Logan was not looking for a relationship. He was far too busy to dedicate time to another person when his life was divided up perfectly into work, pursuit of knowledge, and the occasional social activity to upkeep connections with others. There was no space for Remus Kingsley in his life. His continued thoughts seemed to suggest otherwise, however.

“I need to make a list,” Logan spoke aloud to an empty apartment, setting his book aside and grabbing the notepad from the coffee table.

He set up two columns, dedicated to rationalizing these daydreams away so he could return to his reality. The first column was labeled Thoughts About Remus and the second was labeled Why That Is Irrational. Logan let the thoughts flow freely now, writing down the things his mind had brought up about the near stranger since their first encounter. Remus’ eyes made the list. So did the fact that he’s tall. Logan wasn’t blind despite what his glasses would suggest, and he could admit that Remus was attractive, sort of in a dangerous way. He then went through and rationalized each of those away. Approximately 2% of the population has green eyes, so it isn’t completely impossible he could find someone else attractive with the eye color. It was unlikely, and it was even more unlikely that they would hold that same sort of glint that Remus’ did.

“You’re missing the point of the assignment,” he spoke to himself, continuing on the list.

Lots of people were tall, and even then it wasn’t a requirement to be attractive. Speaking of attractive, Remus wasn’t the first person Logan had thought of as such, so there was strong evidence to suggest he wouldn’t be the last. When Logan did feel he was ready for a relationship he was sure he could find someone else who checked off the required categories who didn’t mess up the bookshop displays. That last thought was more helpful than any of the others. Logan was satisfied with his list, setting the notebook back on the table and picking up his book once more, content now to continue his night of reading where his only concerns were based in the historical fiction he was reading at the moment.

TAGLIST:

@theiwatobiicepic

#alex-writes-everything #turning pages #intrulogical #prinxiety #moceit #remus sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides

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mood-swings-for-days · 5 years

Text

Thunderstorm Ι Ch. 2 Ι JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Werewolf!au

Word count: 4, 599

Warnings: Characters in a less than healthy state of mind, violence, slight body horror, an addicted to cigarettes Jungkook (don’t do drugs, kids!)

Summary: An accidental encounter triggers a series of events that shatter your monotonous life. A new relationship starts to develop, following the stages of a thunderstorm.

Note: Written under the influence of beautiful music

1 2 3 4

Chapter 2: Clouds

As the days rolled by your routine was quick to swallow you whole once again. Your dreams remained consistently vague and your nights remained restless. You chalked your previous nightmare up to the day spent doing something out of the ordinary and refrained from pondering over it. At this point it wasn’t the dream that bothered you, it was the perpetual state of panic you found yourself in every time you woke up. All your energy had been spent a while back and you were pushing through, relying solely on caffeine and the belief that your days will remain consistently mundane. Your mood was always somewhat cloudy too, a perfect match to the weather outside.

The sound of pouring rain seeped through the walls and into the crowded hall, mixing and blending into the chatter of a hundred voices.

“I can’t believe you’re not gonna do anything about it!” Yara grumbled beside you as she vigorously tapped her pen against her notebook.

Your temples were throbbing, partly because of the noisy environment and general exhaustion and partly because Yara was trying to pick up the same subject again. Thoroughly disappointed by your refusal to venture into the woods at night, it had been weeks and she just couldn’t seem to drop it. She was absolutely convinced that it would give you some closure and therefore solve all your problems. Honestly, you got so freaked out by that one nightmare, that just the thought of being alone and defenseless in the woods made you sick to your stomach.

Your hand shot forward and clamped over Yara’s, ceasing the incessant tapping of her pen.

“I told you already and I’m starting to get tired of repeating myself. I am not going out there.”

“But, why?!” Yara whined despite your fingers clenching around hers in irritation “I thought we agreed on bear spray.”

You sighed deeply. You were fuming. Yara’s characteristically childish stubbornness clashing with your absolute refusal to back down was driving you mad. You had become noticeably irritable lately and it was getting harder to contain yourself every time this subject got picked up.

“Yara, I have an awful feeling about this. I’m afraid of it and bear spray isn’t going to make me feel any better. Do you understand this? I’m scared and I don’t want to.”

Upon seeing your tense frame, she seemed to back off somewhat. Until now, you hadn’t explicitly stated you were scared, but you didn’t deem it necessary. Yara still looked at you with displeasure, but for now she seemed to drop it. You were well aware that this wasn’t the last time she brings it up however.

Your attention shifted to the other end of the room where your professor was leaning back in his chair and absentmindedly staring out the tall window to his left. Raindrops were drumming heavily against the glass pane, the wind was howling eerily and every once in a while thunder rumbled deeply, making the old window rattle lightly. You always enjoyed evening lectures. There was something comfortable about sharing a big warm room with a bunch of people when rain was pouring as the daylight dwindled outside.

“Look” Yara whispered as she elbowed you in the ribs. You looked over in the direction she was pointing and you were surprised to see Jungkook walking quietly into the hall. He shook rainwater out of his long bangs and pushed them back. His coat was dripping wet too and you watched with fascination as he wiggled his shoulders out of it. Since you rarely saw him and admittedly found him kind of attractive you were curious to observe his motions. You watched him swing his bag off his shoulder and onto the empty chair in front of him. You almost felt like you were taking a peek into his character by seeing him perform the movements that were natural to him. Only when he was finally seated did you turn back as to not accidentally catch his attention and give yourself away.

“Am I right in thinking that you may be interested in Mr. Jeon Jungkook?” Yara grinned to your left. She wasn’t wrong per se, but you weren’t interested in the sense she was implying.

“Since I gave him a ride, I’ve been noticing him a lot more around town. I’m interested in him as a person.” You clarified, abstracted.

“Soo, you think he’s totally hot and you wanna ‘get to know him better’?” Yara emphasized the last part with air quotes. Your face suddenly grew hot at the memory of cigarette smoke still burning on your lips.

“You clearly misunderstood me.”

“Oh, come on, since when are you not interested in a guy this attractive?” Yara deadpanned “He’s been sneaking glances at you too, you know? It might just work out.” After you refused to answer, she continued “If you’re that curious about his personality, why don’t you go talk to him then?”

Your face was positively burning by this point “I’m perfectly content with watching him from a distance.”

“Well, I’m not.” Yara proclaimed and before you could realize what she was doing, she twisted her body to look back. Your eyes went wide with panic when she not-so-subtly whistled and started waving Jungkook over to where you two were sitting. Aside from his, Yara managed to obtain the attention of several other people, including your professor. He coughed loudly in a discreet attempt to correct her behavior and at this point you were too mortified to lift your face from your arms on the desk. If you did, however, you would have seen the way Jungkook sat frozen and stared at your dumbass best friend with an expression, just as mortified as your own. In fact, most of the people present were staring at her too, but she couldn’t care less. When she figured her brilliant idea had failed, she simply pouted and turned back to your shared desk.

“You people are no fun.” She stated simply as if nothing had happened. The silence that followed her little stunt was something you had burned into your memory that day and for the rest of your life.

The professor cleared his throat awkwardly, breaking the sickening silence. The lesson began a few seconds later and you waited for a few more before emerging from your arms, just to make sure no one was still staring at you. You felt goosebumps erupting all over your body at the thought that Jungkook might still be staring at the back of your head in bewilderment, but you didn’t dare check.

At the end of the class, when you started to gather your things and turned to leave you were relieved to see that Jungkook had already left the hall. You felt so bad from the second hand embarrassment Yara had dumped onto your shoulders, that you didn’t think you could look him in the eye anytime soon.

“What?” Yara grumbled upon seeing your sour expression

“Yara, that was horrific!” You exploded “Why in the world did you think this was a good idea?!”

“Oh, come on, it’s not that big of a deal.” She linked arms with you and started pulling you out of the hall, mumbling excuses all the way to your car.

You drove Yara home and, after offering your respectable goodbyes, headed back to your place. The streets were vacant due to the thunderstorm and you didn’t want to be outside for much longer either. Although the rain had somewhat lessened, every now and then the distant rumble of thunder reminded you that the storm was far from over. The radio was playing some forgotten track, but reception came and went, resulting in sudden spikes of static. You were entering the last stretch of road that surrounded the forest before entering your neighborhood. You remembered the day you picked Jungkook up off this exact intersection. Supposedly, he lived somewhere in the general vicinity of your house. That day he was walking in the rain at night and today he came to class completely soaked so you could only assume he didn’t own a car. This made you wonder if you would see him down the road again tonight. Part of you cringed at the way Yara embarrassed you in front of him just a couple hours ago, but another part of you still hung onto the desire to find yourself alone with him again. Every now and then your memory drifted back to the first part of your nightmare weeks ago, the part with sensual touches and moments of intimacy, shared with a stranger that in your mind wore the face of Jeon Jungkook for a while now. Your fantasy was further fueled by the quick kiss you two actually shared and you just couldn’t stop his image from sneaking in to brighten your duller moments. You were afraid to give in and admit to liking him though, because you honestly didn’t know him. You liked the idea of him, you liked his appearance, but in your head you had slowly built a falsely complete image of his personality that you also really liked. You were way too old to fall for someone without even having one proper conversation with him. Still, that didn’t stop the pleasant rushes of adrenaline from flooding your system every other time you caught his eye or the way you had become just a bit more attentive when in public, reveling in every second you managed to watch his broad frame move through the hallways of your university.

You sighed, you were stepping into dangerous territory daydreaming about him like that. You still had wet asphalt and limited visibility in front of you. The remainder of the intersection you crossed with a clear mind to the steady hum of static from the radio. You were turning left, just about to enter your neighborhood, when your headlights caught the reflection of eyes. For a brief moment you caught sight of a human silhouette, but it darted for the forest faster than your mind could register it. When you reached the spot where the person had been standing, you turned to look at the edge of the woods. Nothing but swaying bushes and branches were left behind to remind you of his sudden exit. Your hands trembled on the steering wheel as a lump lodged itself in your throat. You immediately thought someone was about to jump your car so you unconsciously accelerated while your heart was pounding loudly in your ears. In hind sight it wasn’t your brightest idea, but you drove straight home, ran to your front door and fumbled with your keys for a few seconds too long before unlocking it and stumbling inside.

Your roommate’s wet shoes were laid out under the hanger and, once you had turned every lock your door had to offer, you could somewhat relax at the thought you weren’t home alone. You filled a glass up with water and went straight to your room. After you made sure your blinds were shut, you started to rummage through your belongings; when you found the box of sleeping pills, you popped two in your mouth and downed the glass of water. The cold liquid trickled town your esophagus and into your empty stomach, making you shiver. You had the feeling that your dreams weren’t going to be kind to you tonight. You quickly changed out of your clothes and headed for the bathroom. While you were brushing your teeth, you couldn’t stop glancing at the small open window above the shower. Only a mosquito net separated you from the darkness outside and you couldn’t look at it for too long, imagining someone’s face or hand reaching for you. Every few seconds you stopped brushing your teeth to listen for any noise outside that would send you running and when you finally did hear quiet rustling your heart leapt into your throat. Clamping your toothbrush between your teeth and mustering up every ounce of courage you had left in you, you dashed to close the window, hurriedly washed up and dove for safety under your covers; In the morning you awoke more tired than ever, but with a lighter heart since the sun had risen and that gave you some sense of security.

You went to work earlier than necessary that morning and that happened to be a wise decision. You managed to avoid traffic and when you arrived, the store was kind of a mess. The guy from the previous shift hadn’t bothered to mop up the muddy footprints and a shipment of various merchandise from the day before had yet to be unpacked and loaded into the shelves. You flicked the lights on and decided that cleaning the floor would be a good start. It was around 7 AM and you had about an hour before the store would officially open, you noted. You were vigorously scrubbing the tiles in front of the front door and in your peripheral you could see pedestrians start appearing on the street. The ground was still wet from last night’s thunderstorm and the sky was still gray and moody, but at least the rain had stopped. The air was cold and crisp as it seeped in from the small open window behind the cash register. Once you deemed the floor presentable, you went to put the mop away and hopped onto the counter to wait for it to dry. You picked up the paper beside your butt and looked with disdain at your co-worker’s signature on the delivery slip. At least he took the effort to check that everything had arrived. There were several boxes of cigarette packs, stacks of newspapers and magazines, soft drinks, ground coffee packets and various other items people could find at a local convenience store. With a soft exhale, you turned around to rummage through the counter drawers in search of a box cutter. With the instrument in hand you wiggled off of your seat and went to town slicing through layers and layers of duct tape and cellophane.

You were about thirty minutes into stacking the shelves with goods when the little bell above the door rang.

“Good morning!” You greeted without looking as you wanted to finish arranging the last few packets of cigarettes you had left.

The customer walked around without saying anything and you just assumed they were stopping by on their way to work or school or something and just weren’t in the greatest of moods. You crouched to grab more merchandise from the cardboard box beside your feet. You could hear the customer’s footsteps draw near you so you hurried to put the packets away. Slowly a broad frame approached you from behind. Your skin pricked with goosebumps upon feeling the person’s warmth seep into your back. The scent of fresh linen, mixed with the distinct smell of sweat flooded your nose and you visibly tensed. A bare veiny forearm reached over your shoulder and plucked a pack of cigarettes from your hands. Seeing the raw knuckles and skinny fingers retreat behind you, you immediately felt the urge to turn around. You flinched and took a step back when you were met by Jungkook’s dark eyes watching you from a close proximity. Your heart was pounding as your back pressed into the shelf behind you. Upon seeing your wide eyes and the way your arms unconsciously pressed into your chest, Jungkook’s lips tugged into a barely noticeable smile. He was wearing black joggers and some loose white top that exposed his arms. His face and neck were damp with perspiration and somewhere in your flustered brain you managed to register that he probably had been working out.

“Good morning.” You repeated in a smaller voice this time. Your eyes were darting all over his face and chest, unable to look at one spot for too long while his calmly looked into yours. You thought you were going to be sick if he didn’t say anything.

“Morning.” He offered hoarsely and you felt your face heat up. Suddenly you remembered the stunt Yara pulled yesterday and couldn’t make yourself look at him. You just nodded, quickly turned to jam the last pack of cigarettes you were clutching into its respective place and almost ran behind the counter. Jungkook slowly followed after you to place his items on the cash register. You reached for his water and cigarettes when he spoke again:

“Can I have a large coffee too?”

You reached for the stack of paper cups on the counter and handed him one. “The machine is self-service. Press the ‘L’ button.”

You watched him pick up a few packets of sugar and fumble with them while his coffee was being prepared. Once the beep sounded, he carefully took it and placed it in front of you. Out of habit, you picked up a cardboard sleeve and slipped it around the paper cup. You then proceeded to scan the rest of his items when he chuckled.

“Hot!” He exclaimed and you stared at him in mild bewilderment for a second before realizing that’s what the cardboard sleeve had written on it in bold black letters.

“Uh, that’ll be 7.50.”

Jungkook pulled a $10 bill out of his pocket and reached out to hand it to you. You took it from him, taking care to avoid brushing his fingers in the process. He just kept looking at you calmly and you wanted to address the elephant in the room so badly. When he picked up his items and turned to leave you finally chimed in.

“Hey, uh-about yesterday…” You trailed off when he turned to look at you again. Your head snapped up because weren’t expecting the cackle that escaped him suddenly.

His chest was still spasming when he answered “Oh God, that was horrific! I didn’t know how to react.” His confession made a shy smile brighten your face.

“I’m sorry about that. Yara can be a bit much sometimes.”

“Care to explain what she was doing?” Jungkook raised his coffee cup and motioned for the door with his head.

Your cheeks blossomed again at his subtle implication. You shyly bit your lip and shook your head.

“It’s too early for my break and I can’t leave the store.”

“You won’t leave then. Just come keep me company outside for a minute.” Jungkook shrugged.

Without further contemplation you rounded the counter and followed him out the door, which he held open for you. Immediately the cold air penetrated your thin uniform and made you suppress a shiver. Jungkook took a seat at the low window ledge and situated his steaming coffee cup next to him. You quickly followed suit and sat down a couple feet away from him. He cracked his water bottle open and started literally inhaling it. You watched him with a cautious smile while he finished and sighed deeply.

“Okay, now I’m listening.” He grinned back at you and your heart leapt in your throat for a moment.

“My friend, Yara, was just messing around.” You began while he pulled a cigarette out with his teeth “We were just talking about you and she decided to call you over to… sit with us”

For a moment he remained silent, furrowing his brows while he held the flame to his cigarette and took a long drag. “Talking about me, huh?” He chuckled as smoke poured from his lips. “I hope it’s kind words only.”

“Yeah, and she really made a scene of it.” You shifted awkwardly under his gaze.

“Fuck, that was weird!” he shook his head “Who the hell whistles at people like that? I didn’t know what she wanted and just ended up staring at her.”

“Yeah, you and the rest of the people present.”

“And the professor coughed to try and get her attention, but no. She was adamant!”

You finally managed to release a genuine laugh. Yara really had no shame. It was almost natural for her to embarrass herself and those around her in front a bunch of people. You were starting to visibly relax now. Jungkook was putting in effort to ease your embarrassment and that was putting you at ease.

“Pardon me asking, but why were you two talking about me? I’m really curious.”

“Yara was teasing me, cause she thinks I like you. It’s childish”

“So you don’t like me?” Jungkook retorted, suddenly serious and you didn’t know how to respond.

“N-no it’s not like that, I m-mean I don’t really know you. I’m sure you’re great, but-”

Jungkook interrupted your stammering with a high pitched laugh. Your face was so red by this point; you couldn’t even feel the cold anymore.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you!” He turned to look at you “Oh God, you’re so red! I’m sorry!” He exploded in another fit of giggles and you blinked sheepishly until the humor of the situation dawned on you too. With a quiet snort you joined him in wholehearted laughter. You enjoyed the way he scrunched his eyes and clapped his hands in amusement. Once you both calmed down, he apologized again.

“I guess I have to sit with you next time then?”

“You’re more than welcome to.” You beamed up at him and he responded with a fond smile of his own.

For a while longer you two chatted casually. He finished his cigarette and sipped on his coffee, making a face every time he felt the bitter taste. You learned that he loved dogs and music and wasn’t the biggest fan of coffee, but still drank it in the morning after a workout. You learned that he was born in Busan but moved here, because he hated the big city. You learned that he didn’t speak to his family much and you two related on that note. You also learned that he was genuinely a great guy and your attraction for him grew with every smile and every lingering gaze you two shared.

Eventually, you realized you needed to go back to work, as customers were starting to come in. You got up from your seat and stretched. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook’s eyes followed the curve of your body as you bent back. He sighed and pushed himself into a standing position, moving quickly to dispose of his coffee cup, but not before slipping the little cardboard sleeve off.

“Do you happen to have a pen or something on you?”

You reached for the breast pocket on your uniform shirt and pulled a little black pen while Jungkook tore the cardboard sleeve in two and handed you one half. He clumsily scribbled something on his paper, trying to use his non-dominant hand to support it. The pen looked comically small while he tried to get a good grip on it and it kept slipping between his fingers. Finally satisfied, he extended the piece of cardboard toward you. You accepted it and eagerly scanned what was written on it. You were surprised to see his name and number scribbled down in uneven handwriting.

“Now you write your number down so we can catch up again sometime.” He offered the little black pen back to you with a goofy smile. With a smile mirroring his, you turned to prop your half of the cardboard sleeve against the store window. In the neatest and prettiest handwriting, you could muster at the moment, you wrote down your number and name with a smiley face next to it. Jungkook bit back a grin when he noticed the silly little smile that gave away your excitement about the whole ordeal. When you reached out to hand him the slip of paper, his hand wrapped around yours and you felt like electricity zapped your entire body from the point of contact. His palm was ice cold and rough in contrast to the gentle warmth his eyes exuded. He pulled you just a step closer to him. You were frozen staring up at him for a moment that lasted several heartbeats. When your tongue poked out to lick your lips, his gaze followed the movement and lingered on your mouth for just a second too long before he spoke:

“So, what are you up to later today?” he asked, distracted.

“Um, I’m working until around 4 pm and then I have lectures.” You answered truthfully, not really knowing where his train of thought was heading.

Jungkook shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes for some reason “Right, sorry.” He mumbled and finally released your hand, leaving only the piece of cardboard in his grasp. “Well, see you around, right?”

You nodded just as a customer entered the store. You turned to look at them and then back at Jungkook with an apologetic smile.

“I really should go back to work.”

He offered you a wave before he watched you disappear behind the closing door as you took your place behind the cash register. Jungkook lingered beside the window for a few more seconds, eyeing the elderly man that waddled over to you with a newspaper in hand. The smile you greeted him with was enough for Jungkook to turn around and resume his jog down the street and away from your shop.

The rest of your day was spent in giddy anticipation of the next potential encounter with Jeon Jungkook. You paid no mind to your grumpy colleague arriving late for work well past the end of your shift. At home you put a little extra effort into your appearance, which Yara noticed when you went to pick her up for your shared evening lectures. You two had a pleasant conversation on the way to university and upon entering the hall, you asked Yara to sit with you a little more toward the back.

“Ok, what did I miss in the last 24 hours?” She was onto you before you had the chance to explain yourself. “Are you finally gonna ask Jeon Jungkook out on a date?”

“Geez, would you stop saying his full name every time?” Yara’s eyes narrowed suspiciously “Okay, okay, I am planning to talk to him, but only to apologize about yesterday and I think you should too.”

Yara wasn’t amused by your preposition “I didn’t do nuffin’ wrong! Y’all are just losers.” And after thinking about it for a bit “And since when did you become such a polite and pleasant person?”

She was most definitely onto you, but you bit your tongue and refused to admit to what had happened earlier. If she found out that you went as far as exchanging phone numbers with Jungkook, you would never hear the end of it.

The boy in question however never showed up for lectures that evening, no matter how many times you turned to look at the door or made sure he was supposed to be present. Not even Yara’s keen eyes managed to spot him anywhere. The realization that he decided to skip uni today, although disappointing, didn’t really do much to dampen your mood.

Tonight you drove home with the sound of his pleasant laughter on your mind. Just as you parked in front of your house, thunder rumbled in the distance and by the time you were in bed, raindrops were drumming against your window. You were tired and you drifted off without the aid of the sleeping pills you had been frequenting recently. For the first time in months your sleep was peaceful and fulfilling.

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imaginethathaikyuu · 5 years

Note

Hi there! Could I get a scenario where a cute male reporter interviews Oikawa and they spend majority of the time flirting and both get all flustered and get together by the end?? Lots of fluff pls! Thank you dearly!!

this one’s a bit long so i’ve put it under the cut; i got carried away. thank you for the request!

oikawa tooru x male! readerword count: 1391

Working for a newspaper company was much more difficult than you ever thought it’d be - the work days are long, boring, and about as rewarding as receiving a participation trophy.

When you started the job, you naively believed it would be interesting. You thought you’d get to work on cool stories, interviewing people in the city who did interesting things - but no, that is not what your job consisted of. You couldn’t even get a damn crime case to write about these days.

News has been slow. So what? It’s not like your livelihood depends on cool or interesting shit happening so you can write about it and, in turn, make a living…

And that is why you’d spent the whole day at a high school volleyball tournament. It was a boring day, watching boys - hot boys - who you weren’t even much older than, playing a game you hardly understood, with one goal in mind: interview the winning team’s captain.

Your boss gave you the instruction as if it was easy, but as you stood off to the side, watching the infamous Oikawa Tooru answering questions with ease while a camera was shoved in his face, you had absolutely no idea how to approach him.

He was tall, very obviously exhausted, and worst of all - fucking hot.

It’s not like you hadn’t noticed his attractiveness as you watched him play, but being up close to him - hell, you weren’t even that close to him yet - was a completely different story.

He had a lean build, his shoulders broad and his chest firm. You let your eyes travel downwards - which you found yourself doing more than you’d admit during the game - to get a look at his thick, muscular, beautiful thighs. You’d never been so thankful for the shortness of someone’s shorts in your life.

Oikawa had one hand underneath his shirt, scratching his stomach as he gave the best answers he could - which gave you a glimpse at the pale skin underneath his jersey. He had just a bit of hair underneath his belly button that trailed into hiding underneath his shorts, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much hair he had elsewhere.

God, this was getting inappropriate now - you forced yourself to look away, back up to his face. He had a beautiful smile, a perfectly sculpted nose and jawline, and his eyes - chocolatey brown, warm yet bright, and looking right at you. Your own eyes widened and you gripped your notepad and pen tightly, as if to brace yourself for the impact of his gaze.

The smile he was currently wearing changed from an obviously forced, fake grin to one that looked to you to be flirtatious and - hopefully genuine. The apples of his cheeks swelled and you’d hoped the boy secretly had dimples waiting to come out of hiding, but no luck there.

Oikawa winked at you before bringing his attention back to the reporters in front of him, wishing them well and giving them his thanks. After that, he began walking towards the exit of the gym.

That one wink caused all of the blood in your body to rush down south. And now he was walking away - the cute hot sweaty volleyball player whom this week’s paycheck relies on was walking away from you - and you needed to catch up.

Don’t make a fool of yourself. Don’t make a fool of yourself. Don’t make a-

“Ex-excuse me, um… Oikawa, can I? Um…”

Shit.

You sounded as if you were asking him for a fucking autograph, but how could you not stutter over your words after he turned around and gave you a look like that.

“Sorry - um, can I ask you a few questions? For the - for the newspaper?” You held your pen tightly in your hand, silently begging he’d say yes.

Oikawa smiled at you again, the same smile he’d sent you before.

“Oh, you’re a paperboy? I never would have guessed.”

You returned his smile, “I guess so, um… technically speaking, yeah -”

“Do you mind if we walk and talk?” he asked you, suddenly cutting off your sentence - and his eyes widened when he realized he had done that. “I’m sorry for cutting you off - it’s just stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

He seemed to be worried about it, but you didn’t even care - all you heard was that he’d give you an interview. You get to eat this week and you get to spend time with one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen; this was the score of a lifetime.

He led the way out of the gymnasium, and once you were in the hallway the significant temperature change became more than noticeable. Oikawa gave a loud, pleasant sigh before stretching his arms over his head, loving the feeling of the cool air.

“Okay - ask away, I’ll be sure to give you raw and real answers! You can call the article Oikawa Tooru: An Inside Scoop.”

He smirked at the fact that he got you to laugh - and oh, you had a cute laugh.

“Okay, Oikawa -”

He cuts you off again. “Call me Tooru, please?” You nod, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “And what should I call you, hm?”

He was still smiling that pretty smile of his. “Just Y/N is fine.”

“Okay, just Y/N, what’s the first question?”

You nodded in response.

Right. Questions. You had those, right?

You looked down at your notepad and… nothing.

“Sorry, I’ve… come a bit unprepared,” you said after deciding to just come up with questions on the spot. “I guess you can start off by telling me how you feel, now that you’re going to finals.”

“Better than ever,” Oikawa replied. “I feel better than ever. Did you watch today’s match?”

You nodded.

“How do you think I played?”

Thinking back to your thoughts during the game - you never knew someone could look as cool as he did playing volleyball. His serves were intense, the tosses he sent to his teammates were graceful, and you were sure anyone standing on the opposite side of the court as him would be intimidated.

But now that he was off the court he seemed polite, he was easy to speak to despite your nerves, and despite his height he wasn’t nearly as intimidating as you thought he’d be.

“I think you played really well,” you replied, “I don’t know much about volleyball, though…”

You watched Oikawa’s eyes widen at your words, “You don’t? Well, do you want to learn more about it?”

You’d never even thought about the sport, but after watching today’s match, you can tell it was much more interesting than you gave it credit for. After you told that to Oikawa, he smiled even brighter, saying, “great, well, I’m free on mondays. I’ll give you free lessons! Do you have your phone? I’ll give you my number.”

You fumbled for your phone as quickly as you could before he could take that sentence back.

Why Oikawa Tooru wants to give you his number, of all people, you’ll never know - but you weren’t going to question it.

He put his number into your contacts, adding three cute emojis for good measure, “Why don’t you text me today - we can finish the interview that way, right?”

He winked at you for the second time that day, and if you weren’t blushing before you sure as hell were now. All you were able to do is nod.

“Great! I should get going, but I hope I see you cheering me on at the game tomorrow! You’ll be here, right?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you replied, lying through your teeth. You had no intention of going to the next game - until now, that is. You had more than a good reason for going now.

Oikawa bid his goodbyes to you and walked away, off to find his teammates, while his mind was running a hundred miles a minute.

God I hope I look cool right now. Who even is that guy? He’s so cute - please let me look cool in front of him. Please let me look good in front of this random ass cute boy. I think I’m going to puke.

He’d make absolute sure to play his best in front of you tomorrow.

got a request? send it in. i’ll write it.

#haikyuu!!#oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq x reader #hq scenario #scenario #anon #request #fluff #male reader #oikawa

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a-simple-imagine · 5 years

Text

Car Troubles

Requested by anonymous: “any chance you’d write an agent m x female reader? maybe where reader is another agent on the mission with m&h and she hears when agent m says she’s never been in love with anyone and she’s like i will change that “

Pairing: Agent M x fem!reader

Words: 1.5k+

A/N - This is slightly different than the request; simpler.

Trigger Warning - swearing??

Being recruited for MIB hadn't been your first choice but it was definitely a job you had come to love. Getting to interact with all kinds of people, other species of lifeforms, saving the world, it was all amazing. It was interesting more so than any other job you tried doing. You would often grow bored doing the same thing every day so desk jobs just weren't suited to you. But being an agent brought new possibilities each day. From Hitech gadgets to travelling the world, it was hard to grow bored when you're constantly doing so much. Over years of hard work, you had climbed the ladder of the London branch to become one of the best agents they ever had. Agent H was always the favourite but now that he was in charge, it was your time to shine. Although after everything you were pretty sure M would always be H's favourite even if she was miles away. She was certainly your favourite. You may or may not have a tiny little crush on her. Nothing like an epic adventure where you almost died to bring up feelings. It took a lot of pestering to convince H to get M relocated to the London branch. He had such a soft spot for you and your puppy dog eyes. Now you and M spent practically every day together thanks to H constantly pairing the two of you together. You were almost certain he knew you liked her and he was just trying to help. But every time you're around her and she does something idiotic but admittedly adorable you can't help but think back to the night spent in the desert. Her views on love were harsh. She'd never even given it a chance and it seemed like she didn't want to. You didn't realise your feelings until she was being hauled off back to America and by then it felt silly bringing them up.

Things have been... weird lately. Something was up with agent M and you couldn't figure out what because she had been avoiding you. Sat in Agent H's office you watch the other woman as the boss drones on about today's assignment. At least that's what you assumed this meeting was about.

"Could you at least pretend to pay attention to me?" Fingers click before your eyes bring you back to reality. You flash a smile at H who wears a pleasant smirk.

"I am listening."

"Then what did I just say?" He asks.

"Something about aliens." You reply slowly knowing that nine times out of ten guessing aliens was correct.

"I want you two to go check out the crash. Shouldn't be anything too difficult."

You raise your hand into the air causing H to frown. "Why are you putting your hand up?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you doing? Why is your hand up?"

"Uh... I have a question." You respond, confusion evident in your tone.

"Then just speak up, this isn't primary school." He insists with a distasteful shake of his head.

"Seems she's finally learned some manners" M mutters and you shoot her a look.

"Can I have a different partner."

"What's wrong with M?" H wonders.

"She's a dick, sir." You respond, a hint of playfulness to your tone.

"You two play nice." He points you out of his office. You exit followed by Molly, who so casually brushes past you. Bumping her shoulder into yours as she went.

"I'm not an asshole."

"That's what they all say." You tease. "Can we grab food first I'm-"

"No," she insists. "Let's go."

"See, you're being a dick." You mumble quietly following behind her.

The atmosphere in the care is thick with awkwardness and unsaid words. You can't quite figure out what's changed about her. You play with the radio looking for any song you knew and when it ended you'd change the channel to repeat the process.

"Can you please stop." Agent M asked but it came out more like a demand. You ignore her and continue to flick through the stations. "If you don't stop, I will kick you out of this car."

"Okay, okay. Calm down." You pull your hand back, staring out the window. You can't bare going back to it being silent in hear. "Do you hate me?"

"Hate you?" She very briefly glances at you and then back at the road. "What makes you think I hate you?"

"I don't know. You've been acting really weird and avoiding me-"

"I'm not avoiding you."

You're not convinced. "The other day, I walked into the break room while you were making coffee and you ran straight out without your coffee."

"So? There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that."

"Like what?" You ask brow cocked curiously.

"Agent H needed me."

You watch her, the car coming to a stop at a red light.

"You're a bad liar." You answer, raising your shoulders in a casual shrug. "What did I do to upset you?"

"Nothing-"

"But you admit you're upset?" You counter.

"No. I'm not upset with you."

"Yes, you are,"

Her head shakes. "I just- it's awkward."

"Why is it awkward?"

"Agent H kinda told me you liked me."

"He what!?" You growl. "That traitor."

"So it's true?"

"That he's a traitor? Yeah, I tell him things in confidence and he just blurts it out like it's everyone's business."

"I meant about you liking me." She turns back to the road as the light turns green.

"Oh." You shrug. heat flushes your cheeks as you sink down in the seat. To say you're embarrassed would be an understatement. Finding out that's why she'd been avoiding kind of hurt though. "I guess. But you don't believe in that shit so does it matter?"

"I've never had anyone like me before."

"Honestly for the longest time I thought H had a crush on you but he's just like that. He'd flirt with anything."

"Great?" She seemed confused.

"Even In relationships he still comes across as flirty. And most girls like him because he's handsome which makes sense, even guys too. I admit he's charming but perhaps too much, I'm not sure I could date him. I'll admit he's attractive though-"

"Do you ever stop rambling? Like do you come with an on/off switch or something."

"Sure. Push the right button and you can turn me on," you joke, giggling to yourself. "You get it?"

"I'm so close to kicking you out of this car- so close."

"I'm sorry, I just don't know what to say and I tend to make jokes when things get weird." You admit, watching the world outside pass by. "I like you but I don't see how that's awkward? It's not like I'm looking for anything from you. Just because I have feelings doesn't mean you have to."

"It's weird having someone want to be with me in... that way."

"That way? Can you at least try to sound less repulsed?" You tease. "Why wouldn't someone. Not only are you a beautiful badass who works for one of the most secret agencies in the world. You're also smart and driven; Funny and a huge dork."

"I feel like that last part wasn't a compliment."

"Being a dork is not a bad thing, M." You assure her.

"Well then, you're a dork too."

You glance back to her. "What? No, I'm not, I'm way too cool."

"So it's an insult." She corrects and you can't fight the small smile that makes its way onto your lips. "Do you insult all the girls you like or am I special?"

"You're the only girl I like so that makes you special. Unless you count Margot Robbie but she's famous and married so I have no shot there."

"No shot here either." Ouch. Never have you wanted to sink into a deep dark hole more than you do right now.

"I know that's why I never brought it up. You're a pussy who doesn't believe in love."

"It's not that I don't believe it's just... pointless. A waste of time." She muses, turning the steering wheel between her palms as you turn down the corner. How far away was this crash because you've been in this car for what feels like a lifetime.

"Glad to know I'm a waste of time."

"I never said that."

"You implied it though," you argue. "But that's okay."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No." She corrects.

"Yes." You nod.

"No."

"Prove it, how about... we grab a drink after this?"

"Seriously?"

"See so you do think imma-"

"Fine let's get a drink." She huffs. "If you really liked me you wouldn't guilt me into a date."

"It's not a date unless we make it a date and you clearly think it's a date so it must be... it's a date." The car roars to a stop, the fabric of the seatbelt digging into your neck as you lunge forward. "now we have a job to do, Agent M so stop flirting with me."

"That's not what's happening." She argues, undoing her belt and slipping out the car. "Like at all, really."

You follow her lead, slamming the car door behind you. "Whatever you say, M. Whatever you say."

#Agent M #men in black #men in black international #mib international #Tessa Thompson #mib

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wolfpawn · 5 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy, Chapter 11

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary - Paige finds herself in an internal argument with regards her feelings for Tom, who in turn is feeling somewhat conflicted himself. In her turmoil, she finds herself writing again, leading her to not answer messages or remember promised meetings, meaning Tom finally gets to see her home and how she does not hold on to feelings on ex's and partners.

Tag, @wolfsmom1 @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @standing-onthe-edge

anyone else who wishes to be added to the tags, just ask :)

Paige groaned in humiliation. It was everything she did not want it to be. She thought they would simply enjoy the company of a like-minded soul for a Short time before parting ways again. She never planned to fall for the handsome and eloquent actor, but as she thought of the conversations they had, even as Tom read Sapiens, his passion for literature and his overall demeanour, she was forced to admit it to herself, she had. She had fallen for him, hard. He was everything any woman could want, caring, kind, sweet, animated, and the most attractive man. How was any man able to make scruff look that good, but he did, too damn good. More than once she thought back to their night that caused this situation. She had willingly gone to bed with him, partly because she was very much feeling primal urges, partly because he was very attractive. Not like Derek, Derek was broader built, heavier set, but Tom was uncommonly attractive in his own manner, far more attractive because to go with his body, he had the most astonishing mind.

She felt herself become upset. Tom was clearly not looking for anything like a relationship. This was all because he could not risk his name with the play and to get people off his back regarding his relationship status, nothing more. She knew what the deal was and as much as part of her wanted to tell him to stuff the deal and to make a stab at a real relationship she knew she couldn’t. All that came to mind was the sensation she felt when she saw the two wine glasses and plates in her living room, she never wanted to risk that feeling again.

Tom was not likely to do such a thing, but she did not wish to risk it. He was an incredible man, intelligent, handsome and kind. She loved talking about books with him. Sometimes she felt she needed to remind herself to cease talking, that he did not want to know every last thought she had on books and their content, his face was one of schooled patience, not interest, as no one could be as interested as her, that was the issue, she always felt she was alone in that aspect. Tom was the closest she ever felt she met to a like-minded individual. He had an incredibly similar and eclectic book collection, which made talking to him all the more fun, but she could not believe them to be that perfectly suited, she didn’t have that sort of fortune. She could only enjoy what time they were together as part of the agreement and enjoy his company and thoughts, envious of whatever woman would be the one to truly enjoy such attributes in him, she hoped whoever it would be would appreciate that aspect of him. She loved his adoration of Shakespeare, she was not as enamoured with his works personally, though she did enjoy them, but the passion and love in his eyes when Tom referenced the Bard, his hand movements increased, his eyes lit up and the creases of skin around his eyes came and went as his face became more animated as he spoke. She loved that, she loved his passion, his intelligence made her want to talk to him more and more, to never cease speaking with him. When they spoke, she felt herself become happier, more fulfilled on a personal level. He understood her in ways the man she thought she would marry never did, and that startled her. It made her realise she never really would have been happy and fulfilled with Derek if he had never cheated and she had realised what they were missing. It also scared her that she may never have known such a feeling if she had never realised the difference a meeting of minds could occur. But she had to stop there. There was a meeting of minds between herself and Tom, it was true, but it was not a relationship. Holding hands with him as they walked his dog, the small kisses he bestowed on her hand as they walked, knowing the cameras were there, it was all for show. That was an odd sensation to her, but Tom schooled her in ignoring them and always did everything in his power to not allow her to feel overly uncomfortable with their presence. It was not overly common for them to be bothered by photographers, but on the occasions they were, he did everything in his power to make her feel comfortable. She was grateful for that.

She sighed and continued to look at the blank screen in front of her. She could not write, not how she usually did. She could barely even think of a paper-thin plot. The white screen taunted her, screamed at her, even caused her to consider the contract she just signed for more books and ring Oscar and tell him to cancel everything. At that moment, she felt entirely spent of all of her writing ability. She just growled and typed a few words.

“Why the fuck did I agree to this?”

She looked at it for a moment and thought. Before she knew it, she wrote another line and another. Before she knew what she was doing, she had an opening paragraph. When the warning came up on her screen that her battery was running low, she had over a chapter done. Looking at it is startled bewilderment, she realised she had written something she had not done before, almost something along the lines of a romantic piece, but with her natural humour in it. The most startling part was, it was something like, but not notably close to herself and Tom’s false relationship. In her writing, she had the sense to not implicate that their “relationship” being a publicity stunt, but she did imply that the main character, one that for once, she wrote from the point of view of a man, found himself in an accidental relationship with a woman of considerable power. It was fun, she found herself enjoying it. So with a scour around for her charger, a quick phone call for a delivery of Pad Thai and a trip to the bathroom, she settled down again and continued.

It was midnight when she got a message on her phone from Tom, saying he was finished at the Pinter for the night and that Mark and Fiona had gone to the show. He had met them after in the crowds outside and had a pleasant evening overall. He hoped he was not disturbing her, but had promised Mark that when her mother came to London that Thursday, he would bring her for lunch, as she still felt bothered that they had done so with his mother. He remembered her not having anything planned as they planned on walking Bobby together, so that would sate her mother’s want for lunch. Though he was adamant that this time, he was paying.

Paige never even realised she gave him a response of ‘sounds good’, she ate some more of the now cold Pad Thai and continued to write. She was eight chapters in and she was on a roll. Nothing but her idea filled her mind and she didn’t fight it.

Six in the morning, she yawned and rubbed her eyes before she looked at the small-time on the side of the screen. For a moment, her eyes widened, but they went back to normal again soon after. She pulled all-nighters on more than a few occasions while writing. Getting into the frame of mind was hard, when she got there, nothing was easier.

She stretched, ensured everything saved, got the mug that she had beside her during the night for coffee and put it in the kitchen with the others before going to bed. She didn’t check her phone or indeed did she think to, she simply dragged herself to the bedroom and went to sleep.

A few hours later, she was up again and at the laptop. No housework done, no food eaten, simply typing.

When she heard a persistent knock on her front door, she frowned and looked at the time. It was three in the afternoon. When she wondered why she would receive such a knock on her door, she recalled she was meant to be somewhere at two. She rushed to the door. “Oh my God, I am so sor...what?”

Tom wondered if there was something wrong when he got a message back at such a late hour, his follow up messages the next morning and indeed in the afternoon were not answered. He did not wish to bother her, however, he had to go to an event and both Oscar and Luke thought it best for him to bring her. He needed to alert the organisers that he would need an extra ticket, but to do so, he needed her to accept or decline the offer, so with no answer and whilst in the area, he said he would see if everything was alright. Just as he came close to the house, he noticed a woman struggling with a buggy. He went over and offered assistance.

“Thank you.” She allowed him to lift the front up to get it onto the path. When she looked at him properly, her face lit up. “Oh.”

Tom prepared for one of the usual reactions he got on being recognised. “Yeah.”

“I guess we’re going to the same place.” She laughed.

Tom frowned slightly, not understanding her meaning.

“You’re Paige’s boyfriend, aren’t you? The actor guy?”

That startled him more. Firstly, he had not thought he would be referenced via Paige, and secondly, he did not think someone would call him ‘The actor guy’. “Yes, Tom.” He extended his hand before taking a moment to hamper a guess. “Nicola?”

“That’s me, I’m afraid. And this troublemaker is Alannah.” She indicated to the child in the buggy. “Did Paige triple book or double book herself today?”

“I don’t follow.”

“Did she have plans with you too? We were supposed to meet an hour ago but she never showed and she always lets you know if she forgot something or something came up or she is delayed, so I am guessing she either forgot that she planned something with the two of us or there was a third person to meet too, Oscar no doubt.” She laughed as she made it to the front door of Paige’s home and rang the doorbell before rapping harshly on the door.

It took a minute, but Paige did answer, her hair every direction, her glasses falling off her nose and her eyes red, not from tears or other such negative situations, but of tiredness. “Oh my, God. I’m so sor...what?” She looked between the pair for a moment.

“So, guess who I found?” Nicola smiled, pointing to Tom. “I guess you got into a flow.”

“I am so sorry.” Paige moved aside so they could get into the house. She looked at Tom and frowned. “I blew you off too?” she could not recall any plans she had made with Tom for that day.

“No, I just sent you a few messages which you didn’t answer but I sort of needed an answer for so I said as I was nearby anyway, I would check with you to see if everything was alright and met the wonderful Nicola en route.

“Fair enough.” She looked around for a moment. “Excuse the mess.”

Paige, from Tom’s time in her company, was always very clean, so that statement confused him slightly, but he nodded and walked further into her house, never having been in it due to there being little need for such. They met at his to walk Bobby, or she collected him to go to her parents, or he collected her outside her house if needed, but this was Tom’s first time in her home and being honest, Tom was curious. He looked around curiously, half wishing Nicola was not there so he did not have to act as though he knew the house in any way and allow himself the chance to really study her books and such.

He was startled by the state of the living room, which clearly also acted as Paige’s writing area. It was messy due to her encamping there in her writing fit. It stank of coffee and he was somewhat surprised to see that there were five coffee-stained mugs on the kitchen counter as well as the remnants of last night’s dinner. “Have you eaten today?” He asked worriedly. Her shameful face told him the answer. “And Luke rides my ass about getting too engrossed in work.”

“This is nothing, this is about twenty-four hours of a Paige writing nest, you should see her after a week. I think the Tesco delivery guy thought the place needed fumigating.” Nicola dismissed as she took Alannah out of her buggy and into her arms. “Take my daughter while I go to the bathroom.” She ordered, handing her to Paige.

Paige smiled brightly as she took the toddler. “Hey, Pretty Lady.”

Tom watched as Paige interacted with her ex-fiance’s daughter with the woman he was cheating on her with. Most people would want nothing to do with either mother or child, but it was clear, there was a true friendship between the women. He recalled Paige referencing Nicola before and there was evidently no animosity between the women but this made it all the more clear. Looking at the little girl in her arms, he wondered was she like her father, as she did not seem to resemble her mother too greatly. He did not think it his place to ask such a question, so he said nothing of the matter. When the little girl looked at him curiously, he gave her a big smile that made her do the same. “So, what’s the new book about?”

“I don’t know yet. I am seeing if what I scribbled makes any sense, I guess.” Paige looked at the computer, still plugged in though the screen was dark on the table. “I’m sorry, you said there was something you needed an answer on?”

“A gathering, for Luke’s clients, I...well he and Oscar think it would be a good thing for both of us to be there but tickets need to be booked with the promoter.” He explained somewhat timidly. He did not want to admit that he wanted her there. He enjoyed her company no end and wished more than anything to have her there with him.

“Eh, sure. Yeah, I guess.” She felt odd, she wanted to spend time with him but her thoughts went again to the conversation she had with herself the day before regarding them. She took a moment to look at him and found herself inhaling deeply. Even in a sweater and jeans, he looked incredibly handsome. She had noticed this before, she was not blind, she knew her friend’s husband had an incredibly handsome friend, but it did not cause her to feel then as she did now.

“Stop oogling your man and be something of a hostess,” Nicola ordered.

Tom, who had been looking at the decor as he pondered why Paige may sound so reluctant, looked back to see Paige looking very red-faced beside him. “Will I put on the kettle?”

“Yes, I guess.” Paige handed Alannah back to her mother. “I better clean myself slightly.” She rushed upstairs and did that.

On her return downstairs, she could hear Tom and Nicola laughing slightly. Hoping to not look like something the cat dragged in, she walked back into the kitchen. “What have I missed?”

“Nothing much, just me eyeing up another man you’re in a relationship with.” Nicola joked.

Tom looked at her in shock. He had not thought the women would joke about something so serious, but looking then at Paige, he saw her roll her eyes.

“I suppose Alannah needs a sibling.” She scoffed playfully.

“Oh yeah.” Nicola nodded before looking at Tom who looked equal parts appalled and confused before she burst out laughing.

“You get used to us.” Paige consoled. “In all fairness, we’re both mad.”

“He had a type,” Nicola added. A moment later, she and Paige laughed again.

“I know it’s weird and mad, but honestly, if there is one thing all of that gave me, is higher standards and a new friend.” Paige shrugged.

“That’s two things.” Tom pointed out.

“No, my higher standards includes better friends.” Paige laughed. “Sophie made the cut, very few others did.”

“I still haven’t met her,” Nicola commented.

“They are very private.” Paige consoled. “Really, don’t take offence. I swear, she doesn’t think you are going to try and steal Ben. he’s vegan, I told her you wouldn’t want him.”

“A vegan...Now I don’t want to meet her, how are you supposed to trust someone who willingly puts up with a vegan?” Nicola looked at her in disgust as Paige laughed.

Tom, realising it was entirely playful, laughed and joined in. “I was on a tour with him for Infinity War, I accidentally dipped his nose in banana milk. He is convinced I did it intentionally and to this day eyes me carefully with dairy products.”

“Is that what that statement is about?” Paige looked to him. “I thought he was trying to get you to stop consuming dairy, not you forcibly trying to get him to,” Paige recalled a comment Ben had made about something referencing Banana milk and Tom.

“Yes, it is.” Tom looked at Paige smiling and laughing. Seeing her with a woman she would so justifiably likely to despise showed him just how honest she was with everything she said. She did not hold grudges, or go on about something in the past that hurt her, she lived in the present, no silly arguments, nothing like that. He found himself wondering if there was a way to cease the false relationship and perhaps see if she would ever consider him in an honest one.

#Once Bitten Twice Shy #chapter 11 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

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mdelpin · 5 years

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edit by @mdelpin

I Take Pride In What I Am 2019 Prompt: “I’m not tryna fall in love, I just wanna get fucked up” Pairing(s): CanaxMirajane, NatsuxGray, SilverxGildarts

"Maybe if you didn't drink so much, shit like this wouldn't happen!" Silver snapped at Cana as he fretted over her. She looked like she'd been in a fight, parts of her clothing torn, several of her fingernails were broken, and a bruise was deepening on her left eye.

"Dad!" Gray yelled, "That's enough! You know she was the victim here!" He knew his dad didn't mean to scream. Silver he was just scared for her, and with Gildarts out of town, he felt responsible. Gray was scared too.

Cana’s eyes were wild, looking around Silver and towards the front door of the house. Silver caught the direction of her gaze and moved to block her.

"Don't even think of going out again, young lady!"

"You're not my father, you're Gray's father, and I don't even know what my father sees in you. I hate you!" Cana's words were slurred, but they impacted Silver just as much as if every syllable had been enunciated perfectly.

She locked herself in her room, turning the music on as loud as she dared so that they couldn't hear her sobs. They had only been living together as a family for a few months, but this was the first time her father had left her alone with Gray and his dad.

She was still shaken from what had happened and to make things worse she knew Silver was right. She did drink too much, made stupid decisions like the one that had gotten her in trouble that very night. It had been nothing out of the ordinary, she'd met a guy, and they'd hit it off, but she hadn't expected him to try anything. He'd seemed nice, and she'd let her defenses down and when he'd offered to give her a ride home she'd accepted.

When they got to the house he wouldn't let her get out of the car, and then he started kissing her, and that part had been okay but when he tried to do more she started to fight back, and that's when everything turned ugly, even though it was still a bit hazy. Cana didn't remember how she had gotten the shiner, and she knew she'd been lucky that Silver had come home and figured out what was happening.

She shouldn’t have said those things to him, he beat the crap out of that guy for trying to take advantage of her. They weren’t even true, she loved him, and she knew exactly what her dad saw in him, it was all the things she had seen in Gray in high school, but as a friend.

Now Silver would call her dad and tell him everything, or even worse what if he left her dad cause he couldn't deal with her? Oh, god, no! It had taken her dad all this time to find someone he liked after her mother died. She couldn't be responsible for ruining that for him. Her anxiety started to kick in, and she couldn't breathe.

I fuck everything up, that’s all I ever do! Damn it, I need a drink!

She changed her clothes and cleaned herself up a bit before opening the window in her room and climbing out. There was a bar not too far from their house, she could be there in ten minutes.

Xxx

Cana entered the bar and was disappointed to see a different bartender. This one had pink hair, and he was looking at her with concern, probably trying to figure out whether he should serve her or not, she thought.

Before he had a chance to say anything, she ordered her usual drink, and after deliberating for a few seconds, he went and mixed it.

“Here you go,” The bartender handed her the drink, “You want a steak or something?”

"What?" Cana arched an eyebrow finding the comment somewhat random, and confused to find that small gesture hurt.

“For your eye, it’s swelling up,” He replied, “There might be some frozen vegetables out back.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay handsome, I’m good. Just keep these coming.”

He looked at her unsurely but extended out his hand, “I’m Natsu, I just started today. Do you come here often?”

“Not if I can help it, this place is a dump,” Cana snorted, “But it’s home. I’m Cana by the way.”

Natsu nodded at her, he seemed friendly but not too familiar.

“Hey is that girl working today?” Cana suddenly asked, “What’s her name…. Mary Jane?”

Natsu thought about it for a moment as he wiped down the bar, "I'm terrible with names, what does she look like?"

“Silver hair, gorgeous blue eyes, a voice to die for,” Cana drawled, her tone flippant.

"Gorgeous blue eyes?" Natsu rolled his eyes at her and grinned, and Cana found herself liking him more and more.

“Well I mean, yours aren’t bad either, but you’re not my type,” Cana winked at him smiling in relief when he just chuckled at her comment.

"I think I know who you mean," Natsu replied to her earlier question, "I'm not sure what her name is, but she's supposed to start at my break, which is in about thirty minutes. I gotta go check on some other customers, holler if you need anything."

Cana gave him a small wave and wondered briefly if he were gay, he was hot and friendly, and she thought Gray might like him. Maybe she'd get around to asking him after she'd had a few more drinks.

She grabbed her phone out of her purse to see if she had any messages. She had a few missed calls from Gray and a text from Silver, who was freaking out about not finding her in her room and begging her to reply.

She put her phone back in her purse, chasing her guilt away with her drink. For all her earlier worries, she didn't want to think about it now. She was away from it and looking forward to seeing the hot bartender.

Cana had always found girls pretty or interesting, but she'd never been taken enough with one to want more than friendship. The only girl she'd ever kissed was some random girl whose name she'd forgotten. It had been at a high school party during a game of Spin the Bottle. Truth be told, she couldn't even remember if she'd liked it or not, and of course, there had been alcohol involved.

Actually, this bartender was the reason for a lot of her current troubles. As much as she lived surrounded by gay men, Cana was having difficulty accepting that she found girls more attractive than guys.

She knew she was ridiculous. Obviously, no one in her life would fault her for it, but it went against everything she'd always expected of herself, and Cana was nothing if not stubborn. So she'd been forcing herself into situations with guys, and of course, that's precisely what had led her to her current predicament.

When she was sober, she couldn't handle the thoughts about her burgeoning interest in girls, when she was drunk; however, it was another matter entirely. Of course, she had no idea whether the bartender was even interested in her, but Cana figured there was nothing wrong with some harmless flirting and she had some time to get ready. She finished her drink and called Natsu for another.

Cana closed her eyes as she waited, trying to calm herself down before she could chicken out. Although the girl was friendly enough, Cana had never been brave enough to let her attraction be known.

Natsu brought her drink and once again asked if she wanted something for her eye. He looked concerned, and it made her wonder how bad it actually looked. She fumbled for her compact in her blue fuzzy purse as Natsu waited with a knowing look on his face.

She viewed herself in the reflective surface and flinched, she looked terrible. No wonder Silver had been flipping out. She quickly moved away from that thought, still refusing to deal with what had happened.

“Oh my God, I look like shit!” Cana muttered, she started to think that maybe she should go home after all. But the alcohol was already mixing with what she’d drunk earlier refusing to allow logic to enter the situation.

“Sure, frozen veggies and I should be good as new!” She chirped in what she thought was a quiet voice.

Natsu was gone for a long time, and when he finally returned with a bag of frozen vegetables, he'd magically turned into the girl of Cana's dreams. She held out the bag for Cana, wincing in sympathy as she caught a glimpse of her eye.

“Natsu told me you were asking about me,” The girl smiled and all Cana could do was peer at her from behind the bag of frozen produce.”

"I'm Mirajane, but everyone calls me Mira. I know we've chatted before, but I don't think we've ever officially met."

Cana stared at her, all words escaping her as she lost herself in the deep blue eyes that were looking at her with open curiosity.

"Uh, I'm Cana," Thankfully, her brain decided to enter the conversation, although a bit late.

Mira held her hand out to shake, and Cana grabbed it awkwardly, having to keep her other hand pressed against the veggies.

“So, Natsu was concerned, is everything alright?” Mira pointed at her face, “Should we call someone for you?”

“You mean you don’t think this looks cool?” Cana grinned, excited by being in Mira’s presence.

“Well, it’s just the other eye was so perfect, I didn’t see the need to ruin it,” Mira winked at her as she pulled out some lemons and limes and began to slice them.

Cana's cheeks were burning at the unexpected compliment, and she hoped that it wasn't enough to melt the veggies because the ice did feel pleasant on her bruised eye. She could hear Mira giggling at her and because she couldn't think of anything else to say she blurted out, "Hey, do you know if that new bartender is gay?"

Mira seemed put off by the question, “I don’t know, but it’s really not something to be gossiping about.”

"Oh, no! That's, oh god, you must think I'm terrible." Cana admitted, "I..he's cute and nice, and I thought he might hit it off with my stepbrother."

Mira seemed to relax a little at her reply, "Oh, I have siblings too, I get what you mean. You want them to be with someone nice, but all they seem to find are jerks."

Cana nodded, excited that she hadn’t screwed up irrevocably, “Yes, exactly! He’s getting over a bad breakup.”

“Aren’t we all, “ Mira laughed as she handed her another drink, “You should keep that on for another ten minutes or so, I’ll be back to check up on you.”

Cana stared after Mira, enraptured by the sound of her laughter. Yep, she was in trouble. Cana’s brain betrayed her, all thoughts erased but for what it would feel like to kiss Mira or even just hold her hand.

She finished her drink quickly, trying to get to that state where she was free from thinking at all, but she was losing. The whole day was catching up to her, and the soothing coolness of the frozen vegetables pressed against her face was making her feel slightly sleepy.

Cana heard an incessant beeping and shook her head, trying to figure out where it was coming from. After looking around the bar blankly, she finally thought to check her phone. In the time since she had last checked, it had exploded. There were messages from Gray, Silver, her father, and about four of her friends all desperately trying to find her, but it was Silver's message that broke her heart.

I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you, I was just scared. If you come home, I promise you I will pack my bags this second. But please, please come back. I need to know you're safe.

Leave? You can't leave! We need you! She put the phone on top of the bar as panic began to set in, but it was no match for the alcohol filled haze she had put herself in. She felt her body start to slump onto the bar, her hands instinctively cradling her head as she let herself rest.

“Is she passed out?” Natsu hovered over the girl he’d been talking to earlier in the night even as he looked to Mira to figure out what to do, “Does this type of thing happen often?”

“No, she’s a regular, I’ve never seen her like this before. Something must have happened, can you carry her to the break room? We can’t leave her out here like this.” Mira asked and before she was finished speaking Natsu had already vaulted over the bar and had Cana in his arms.

She noticed Cana's phone on the bar and grabbed it when she saw it was unlocked. She felt terrible looking through the girl's phone, but she needed to call someone for her. She followed Natsu into the break room already calling the person on the last text.

“Hi, is this uhm Silver?”

Xxx

“Gray, we gotta go,” Silver said the moment he hung up his phone, “I know where your sister is, come on.”

They got into the car, both men still concerned even though the bartender had told Silver that Cana was fine and had just fallen asleep. Gray got out of the car as his father tried to find a parking space while calling Gildarts to let him know Cana had been located.

He quickly entered the bar, coming face to face with one of the bartenders. He lost focus for a second as he was faced with one of the most attractive men he’d ever seen, who just happened to be staring at him with a confused face.

“Uhm, it pains me to say this, but we have a strict No Shirt, No Service policy here,” The bartender said even as his eyes refused to move from Gray’s chest.

"Damn it!" Gray looked down at himself not surprised to see that in his stress he'd managed to shed his shirt. It was an annoying habit, but if the look he was getting from the bartender was anything to go by, one he couldn't be too upset about at the moment.

He looked around for his shirt and found it by the door. By the time he had put the shirt back on, the bartender had a beer waiting for him.

“What’s this for?”

“Well, I felt like I owed you something… I mean I got a show so…” He grinned and handed the beer over, “I’m Natsu by the way.”

Gray found himself really liking that smile.

“Thanks! I’m Gray,” He shook the man’s hand and found himself noticing how well his green eyes complimented his pink hair.

“It’s been a rather exciting first day for me, one customer fell asleep and now an attractive man stripped in my bar,” Natsu commented.

Gray knew there was something about that comment that was yelling for his attention. He pondered it for a moment and then grinned internally. Of course! Natsu thought he was attractive. He found himself smiling as he drank his beer.

“Hey Gray, did you find your sister yet?” Silver came in, not paying much attention as he was still talking to Gildarts on the phone, who was now demanding to speak to his daughter.

“Huh?”

“Sister, asleep, bar… any of this ringing a bell?” Silver rolled his eyes at his son, immediately realizing he had somehow managed to lose him to a rather attractive young man. Not that he could blame him, there was something about his smile that reminded him of Gildarts a little, and he was well aware of how easy it was to get lost in that smile.

“Oh, you must be Silver,” Natsu greeted him enthusiastically, “Follow me, your daughter is with my coworker.”

Natsu led both men to the break room where Cana was asleep on a small sofa with Mira watching over her. He returned to the bar, not being able to leave it unattended for long.

“Is she okay?” Silver asked not able to see if Cana had acquired any new injuries since she had left the house. He winced when he saw how bad her eye looked.

"She's just asleep, she was a bit restless, but she seems to have calmed down now," Mira smiled at Silver.

“Darts, I’m gonna have to call you back,” Silver tilted his head as he watched Mira do something in Cana’s phone before putting it into her purse. “She’s fine, she’s right in front of me.”

He listened for a second before replying, “Fine, fine.” He hung up, taking a quick picture and sending it to his worried partner before putting his phone in his pocket.

“Thank you so much for calling me, we were so worried,” Silver gushed, arms already aching to pick Cana up and take her home.

"She comes here a lot, so I wanted to make sure she was okay," Mira smiled sweetly watching as Silver grabbed his car keys and tossed them to the younger man before picking Cana up. They all beamed as Cana snuggled up to him without waking up.

"Let's go home," Silver told the boy, and they shared a look that intrigued Mira as if it was something new to them.

She followed them out of the break room and watched them leave, noticing that Cana's brother made a point of saying goodbye to Natsu.

She took her place behind the bar, and Natsu immediately asked her, "Is it always like this?"

“Nah, it’s usually quite dull.”

“I’m kind of bummed, I never got a chance to ask for his number.”

"I don't know, maybe I'll put in a good word for you," Mira grinned at him mischievously and when he gave her a puzzled look she giggled, "I may have added myself to her Contacts list."

A/N: Ok I know I said drabbles and I am somewhat aware of what this means and that this is in no shape or form one. I try, it’s just, words happen. I hope you still like it!

#fairy tail #ftlgbtpride2019 #ftlgbtales #canajane #gratsu #sildarts #ftfanfics

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eb-byestelle · 5 years

Note

:3 2 5 6 9 13 14 17 22 23 24 28 29 30 34 35 37 38 40 41 43 44 47 48 50 54 55 56 57 59 60 61 63 64 67 68 70 72 73 74 76 79 80 81 82 84 87 88 90 97 98 100

Hi there !! ❤️

Oh lord……….. 😵😅 There is a lot of it! But in some way it flatters me 😂💖

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

I do. It seems to be sth unpleasant but I like that tbh. It’s a very refreshing feeling.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

Ofc I’m 😂

6: do you keep plants?

Generally no. I prefer to have an ornamentation which are long-term like a paintings or various types of souvenirs. But every now and then I love to buy some roses or lilies.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Sometimes.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

A few things for sure ^^ For example some new epizode on the channel of one of my favrite youtubers. I usually don’t care about youtubers, but there is few guys who I really like. He is one of them. Besides of reviewing and mocking of a bad movies, he started to make a program when he laughs of his inept cooking skills and in a funny way he tries to do the various dishes. It was the epizode when he tried to do some dish created by Gordon Ramsey. With his brilliant joke and a chill style of being, as usual it was great. Another thing which comes to my mind is a very tasty breakfast 😋

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

I guess it would be like in case of a lot of roommates. A separate rooms for each of us. Each one would be the own part of the fridge. The bills would be divided in half for each.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Right now I have a color I like (dark chocolate).

22: are you a morning person?

Not exactly xD I love mornings! It’s my favorite part of the day. But at the same time I love to spend all night without sleeping xD At night we have the best ideas and the biggest inspiration ❤️ sometimes I call myself „a night animal”. But I still love mornings, this fresh air, very pleasant atmosphere. But because of my love to being „a night animals” my morning is only sometimes in the correct part of the day (like 7.00 – 8.00 am).

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Like today xD Eg. replying to messages (like right now xD), cleaning, some activities like a cycling, trips or swimming, watching a movies, finding an interesting things or creating sth like a new poem or taking a new photos to my albums.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Yes, she is ❤️ She knows more than anybody.

28: sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise ❤️

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Eg. when there is my birthday time and some my friend always gives me the gifts which perfectly suits to my interests and my personality ❤️ It’s the sign for me that someone knows my well and I’m important for him/her.

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

I think I have… But I’m not sure when exactly. It was a long time ago…

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

You mean a mascot, right? I still have my dear bunny ❤️ Its name is Niunia (a girl name). I got it for my fourth birthday. It was one of my biggest inspiration for the next 10 years xD Thanks to this bunny I created my first tales, comics, novels, and arts. It was like an one big inspiration bomb xD

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

Yeah, I like it. I use it very often.

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

Rather clean.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

It would be probably when someone is too sarcastic. Many people love sarcasms. Some are funny, when don’t laugh of somebodies in some mean way, but generally when it’s sth too personal, directed directly to me, then it’s sth very painful.

I also really don’t like when someone is a religious fanatic. I’m not an atheist and I totally respect all religiouses but some part of them are just insane… Some of them even try to say, that the homosexuality is a disease and that the contraception is a killing. Maybe we should claim that the religious fanatics is a disease xD 💀😂

Oh! And I hate this obsession with diet and exercise. It’s great to feel attractive and healthy but it started to be the one large international persecution mania 😅💀💀

40: think of a piece of jewelery you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

Ahh, ofc! I have a lot of jewelery, many of them remind me of some memories. My the most precious thing is my ring which I bought from my first scholarship (the scholarship I got in 2015, while I bought it in 2016). I wear it everyday. Later I went to the some steep hill and at the top of this hill I’ve done a kind of oath to myself that I will never make some mistakes once again, i.e. that I will always respect and love myself and I will always be faithful to myself (Sth a bit like a self-wedding xD There was even the cross xD).

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

Generally I read book quite rarely, I choose much more the watching the movies/anime, but when I think about a books like this, eg. now I’m reading some really great book. It’s called „Sophie’s World”. It’s about a teenage girl which one day came back from school and inside of her letter-box found a letter addressed to her, where it was one question „Who you are?”. Later, after she started think about who could give it to her and wonder about that question, another anonymous letters with philosophical questions began to be put into her letter-box. After a short time, after stimulating her curiosity towards philosophy, still without knowing the identity of the mysterious philosopher, the girl started a philosophy course, this time receiving a lot of long sheets full of new knowledge. More and more she began to delve into the world of philosophy, while at the same time trying to find out who is that mysterious teacher. At the same time, every now and then for some reason in various places, she found some things for the another girl she had never met. So far, I’m halfway through, history is getting more and more interesting. This is not a romance, as might be suggested by that “mysterious man” xD is a novel which is a kind of textbook of philosophy inserted into the story of the main character, written in a style that is one of the best literary styles I have ever read ❤️

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

With my music xD 🎵🎇

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

It was some time ago, on my last ride by bicycle.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

The meat from the dogs 😱😭😭👎

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

In case of this, I’ve really changed. As a kid I was scared by a storm, altitude, public appearances, spiders, darkness, although at the same time since childhood I’ve liked to challenge myself. Then there was a time when there were many strong negative experiences in my life, after which I came up with some simple thought: “Once I was afraid of a storm, but then I found out that there are more terrible things than a storm.” Now I’m afraid of only few things. I was able to go in the middle of the night through a dark forest, perform in front of a hundred people or run away from a stranger who chased me with a log in hand and even then I didn’t feel a fear. But there is still something I’m scared. It’s a bad people. I divide bad people into “culprits” and “intruders”. These first ones are people aware of their faults who have made mistakes, but they have a goodness within them that helps them to be better. Those second ones are totally evil. They are persuasive. People love them and follow them. They’re often completely unaware of the quantity of evil that is within them. Their boundless ruthlessness, combined with their eternal state of repression and alleged innocence, make them worse than the most dangerous lion.

I’m also afraid of losing humanity. I have the view that human is a creation between an animal and a device. I don’t want to get lost totally in lusts and instincts, like an animal, I don’t want to lose myself in logical cold action, like a device. It’s important to not forget about the instincts and the logical thinking, both skills are very valuable. But the extreme transition to one of these parties is bad. And very simple in a present times. While there is still humanity in the middle, specifically this what is metaphorically called “the soul” (feelings, weaknesses, sensibility). I don’t want the present world to deprive me of this.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

I guess I don’t collect any things like this.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

Some my friend from studies. She has a very hard time right now…

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

It’s hard to say… But I guess it was some „skill” I had to learn, ie. more „sharp” kind of speaking and behaving, more agressive. Ofc not as a kind of speaking everyday, but it were a situation which forced me to be cruel to someone who hurt me. It was my final attempt to prove that this person very hurts me and deserves my contempt. It worked. Now this person is completely different to me. But I don’t hide that it was difficult. In a way, I had to move my scruple and find within me something what I call “wildness”.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

When someone still has inside sth from a child. Specifically, I mean a children’s sensitivity, curiosity about the world, the ability to dreaming, child’s innocence and a kind of enjoying something like a child. Imo it’s very important to cultivate everything this within us, at the same time having sth of an adult, like eg. an emotional maturity (there are ofc also children who can do it ;3). I like when someone is not afraid of being themselves. I also value a tenderness. I also like when someone gets involved in something with a passion, in some of their interest, or even in the anime episode xD

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I can to listen to this AGAIN AND AGAIN 💖🎵🎵

59: what’s your favorite myth?

I don’t have any.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

I like ^^ My fave poets are Adam Mickiewicz and Jan Lechoń. From my poetry my fave poem is called „The Shine” about how to recognize the true great love and not to confuse it with sth worse, some fake. It resembles a dialogue by a man with a personified „Mrs Love/Goddess of love Venus” (there is even sth mentioned about Venus). The man falls in love with someone, but he hesitates, doesn’t know if she’s this only one. Love tells him that yes, this is the only one. Love also tells him what he should to do to not lose her and how to realize the enormity of his feelings and distinguish the “first place / podium” from the others ones.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

I gave one day for one my friend a cup with picture of Rei from Free! in a butterfly costume. Have I received some stupid gift? Maybe that bright green headphones for music in the shape of little monkeys that looked terribly and worked even more terribly XD

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

I think that to some level I’m fussy, but not very much. I love the most to listen sth what it evokes some feelings me and emotions inside me or inspires me to sth. When it doesn’t do it, it’s not a big deal but on the first place I put a kind of music like above.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Black (We have a 2:15 am so .. xD).

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

It’s not sth what makes me feel worse. I just try to accept any weather and to be above it. But sometimes there are a moments when I feel sleepy.

68: what’s winter like where you live?

It depends. Sometimes it’s light and warm, about 0oC, sometimes we get even -20oC O.O … The snow is every year but not during all winter.

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

So far I have not.

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

Some things yes. I love to create a lists concerning various things. Thanks to this some stuffs and things to do are orderly in my head. But not everything. There must be a place for being spontaneous lol xD without this we don’t live xD

73: what are some of your worst habits?

No comments XD

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

Friendly, kind, tender, open-minded, full of passion and amazing ideas, funny, inteligent, positive, shy, sensitive, as much pervert as me (or more xD), with a golden heart 💖💖💖

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Yhm, Sleeping? (2:40 am while tomorrow morning I go to work xD sometimes I have to turn off my inner „night animal” xD)

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

Eg. when one my friend gave me on my birthday ALL collection of „X/1999”, all 19 volumes which cost a lot of money and which are also very hard to find. I’m truly grateful for that, it’s one of my favorites manga serieses ever! In case of guys, eg. one kissed my hand only in a winter glove, claiming that he’s not worthy to do it without this. From myself (I do for myself A LOT of sweet things xD) I’ve gotten a gold statuette for happy birthday with an engraved wishes 😄🏆🥇

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

The walls of my bedroom are in a creamy color. I didn’t chose it but creemy it’s for me very neutral color so it’s alright. In my future dreamy bedroom the walls would be white or in a powder pink color.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

Yeah, this is perfect xD

82: are/were you good in school?

In those subjects I liked. That was my rule xD About the rest I didn’t care.

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

I guess not.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

The scientific movie “Journey to the Edge of the Universe” (2008) It’s one of the most beautiful and profound movie from this kind, I’ve ever seen ❤️❤️ „100 girls” when the main guy has absolutely brillant reflections about a women and men, everyone should to listen to him! :D And „Lucy”, about the potential of our brain. And perhaps also „The Devil’s Advocate”, it’s a food for thought.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Music for sure and a bit the painting world.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

Let my own photos and those from the Internet will tell instead of me.

Yeah… That’s Wroclaw 💖

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

INFJ/ENFJ, pisces/aries , none of hogwarts houses.

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

Last week, It was very nice. I really like this kind of spending time.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

I think that none of them. I don’t want t change a past, I like the state of things which is now and love some special memories which could to not happen If I would go back 5 years. I also don’t want to jump up the 5 years which can bring something special.

*****************************************

It reminds me some trend which we were in the primary school, called “The golden thoughts” where some person created a 100 question, wrote in a notebook and later others answered her question in that notebook. It looks exactly the same ❤️

Thank you for your message! 😘

#tag game #ask #answer #E.B. - by Estelle

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jojosthetic-boogaloo · 5 years

Text

@marysuepatrol says: Hi! I’m sending this in as a submission for length’s sake, don’t want to annoy you by sending in a ton of asks! Anyways, if it’s not too much to ask, may I please get a moodboard matchup from parts 1-5? (they’re so pretty omfg)

I’m a bi 5'2 Asian girl, and I’m an ENTP. I love taking care of plants and cats, along with most other animals! I’m a pretty bold person with something of a sense of justice, and I’m never afraid to speak up against stuff I don’t agree with. I have some trust issues due to a formerly emotionally abusive relationship, mostly relationship-wise and not friendship wise. I’m pretty witty, and I’m a huge believer in fate and supernatural stuff, like fortune telling and the occult. I like reading, drawing and writing! I find world culture very fascinating, especially the languages and music, and I’d love to travel the world one day! I love learning new things, and I really like going to libraries (especially older ones!) on a nice afternoon, especially with my s/o! Usually, I’m pretty laid back and a friendly person in general. I like to tell jokes/bad puns with people I’m really close to, and I love giving to people/helping them out! With a s/o, I’m more attracted to smart people and people who have more life experience than me tbh, since I’d also want someone who can guide me in a relationship!

That was sorta long, but thank you so much!! Please take your time on these matchups, I know they take a while sometimes but you’re doing great! <3

Hi Mary sweetheart!!! I’ll smooch your entire face you’re adorable as heck sashdhf <3 Now before I get rambly and spend this entire matchup just saying how much i love you and thank you, let’s get to the juice.

Your matchup! You do realize that you’re giving me here a type that I could not pass over, right? The moment I got midway your request I knew exactly who to match you up with. When I finished reading, I also decided to add in a small brochup, for the sake of being soft. So, here ya go! Double the jojo double the fun!

Translation: “It must have been fate, but I’m thankful we met, bella.”

Risotto Nero!

You met because Risotto had to leave the office for something to snack on since the gang had eaten almost everything there was in there. He was terribly hungry, terribly tired and terribly irritated, but he still kept his usual neutral expression.

As he walks, he makes his way to the nearest convenience store, that currently has a construction team working on a platform to fix the building right next to it. When he’d crossed below the platform, you happened to be about to enter the store too, looking at him from a distance due to his peculiar appearance and telling him with a raised eyebrow and half a smile in a friendly tone “That’ll be bad luck for ya, sir.”. He finds your remark amusing and retorts with “I could be back luck for them, miss.” You laughed it off as a casual tough guy comeback, though, you did not know he was serious about it.

Since he barely ever makes the effort to speak to others, he decides to let the conversation be done with as soon as you both enter the store, each making your way and giving a small departing nod to each other as you leave for different aisles.

After a while walking though the aisles and grabbing your items, you notice a common thought cross your mind. “I haven’t crossed him once yet.” And it slightly saddened you. You thought of this as a simple after effect reaction to having interacted with a handsome (and kinda scary) man that gave you three seconds of his day and exchanged some words with you. It had been a notable experience in your day and your brain was just giving it some spotlight, no big deal.

To your pleasant surprise, you notice him step before you into one of the checkup lines, and decide to go to the same one just to try and get the chance to even say a simple goodbye after checkup. When it’s his time to pay, you hear him let out a confused and quite irritated “hah?” for he did not find neither money nor his credit card in his wallet. Formaggio must had taken it without permission; again. All for his stupid gambling habits.

As he clenched his perfectly sharp and strong jaw (you couldn’t help but note this, the man was quite a sight), not knowing how to react; you stepped in tapping him on the back, smiling at him confidently when he turned and announcing to the cashier you’d pay for his items. He was only purchasing a beer and some chips, what harm could it do to your wallet.

He’s indebted to you now, Risotto instantly thought. That’s how it worked in his mind. If he ever gets something from someone, it must not be left as a good action, there has to be some interest behind it. Yet, when he could not pinpoint the reason you’d want him to pay you back for anything, he simply decided on paying it back to you because you seemed just genuinely nice and not mean spirited in the slightest. Just a regular, nice civilian.

He offers to invite you to some coffee next time you meet as thanks and offers you his number, which you take in gleefully. You didn’t even have to ask and you got this hell of a man’s phone number? Today was worthy of being noted in your calendar. After exchanging numbers, he gives you a nod and the slightest, smallest hint of a cordial smile and leaves his own way, leaving you wondering if you’d just seen the slight hint of a dimple form on his overall solemn looking face.

You sent him a text informing him it’s you, the convenience store girl. He replies with a “Ok” which throws you a bit off balance. He can’t help it, he’s bad with words and even worse with texts. “Is your schedule open on Friday afternoon?” He follows up, making you smile due to his unnecessary formal tone. “For coffee, I mean.” He quickly adds, which makes you giggle. He’s endearingly awkward and stupidly formal, that was interesting, you were curious.

When you meet for coffee that wonderfully awaited Friday, you almost fall off the chair when you see him dressed in what, usually, you’d call casual clothes (because let’s be honest, what he wore to the convenience store made him look like a bdsm gester, not that you minded though). The perfect fit of his V neck white shirt and the lack of his hat made you swallow, quickly composing yourself and placing your hands on your lap under the table. “Hi, you look…” He started, seemingly struggling to find his words as he slid the chair back and sat before you. “Positively beautiful, Y/N.” You felt a knot in your throat when this handsome, intense looking man told you that, giving him a nervous giggle and a smile, looking him in the eye after much effort and adding an almost too quiet. “You too, Risotto.”

He’s the silent listener type, he nods at your statements and gives you the occasional “yes” or “mhm”. You did not expect him to actually end up asking after you mentioned you liked books. “What type of books?” He asked, a curious, most endearing smile on his face while he stirred his coffee in the big black mug he’d ordered. You took a sip off yours and after organizing your thoughts, you told him. When you mentioned you’d love to go to an old library to spend the afternoon, he immediately told you he’d be glad to join you. What a shame he didn’t let you finish the sentence with a “-with my future significant other, that’d be a wonderful date.” You didn’t dare utter those words now, having a rotund “yes” already from the man.

You go to a fancy, old Italian library next weekend (after admittedly sneaking out of the office and leaving Prosciutto in charge for the afternoon). He tells you about his favorite reads, recommending you some books while you quietly admire him from the side and give him the occasional nod and smile when he catches up on you being silent for longer than expected, fearing you’d grown bored of his rambling.

As the afternoon goes by, you stop by at the romantic-drama aisle. The big round glass windows letting the golden hour sun sip through and clash against his herculean features, which you couldn’t help but stare at. Seeing him standing there, the way he calmly stood there with such a mature look in his face whilst skimming through a book he’d surely have read before already… it was silly, but it made your heart thump gingerly on your chest.

He catches you staring, scoffing quite embarrassed thinking its because you think he’s weird looking. After clearing his throat and placing the book back in the bookcase, he turns to you and gives you an intense stare whilst crossing his arms over his chest. Oh god, he was well trained as well. Just by looking at his biceps you felt he’d be able to snap you in half without any problem if he so desired to.

“Yes, I do know I look scary, but I’ve no intention to harm-” you cut him off with something he did not expect to hear. “No, Nero, I just think you’re someone I could look at for hours and never get tired.” You blurted out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and looking down when you thought back on what you’d just told him.

Before you could apologize, you rose your gaze and noticed he’d just taken his eyes off you and cast them back to the books on his side, the slightest shade of red decorating his cheeks now as he visibly bit the inside of his cheek, clueless on how to react properly to your remark. Sure, he had the emotional intelligence and the self awareness of a log, but even he knew that wasn’t meant as a casual compliment.

“…Anyways, I think you’d like this one.” He kept going, as if nothing happened, which made you smile tenderly at him. You gave him a nod and kept browsing books with him until it got dark. He silently assigned himself to escort you back home, with his hands on his pockets while you occasionally commented on the weather or on the books you’d taken notes off that he mentioned.

One day, you met up to chat about a book he’d lent you, his favorite. You mentioned you liked it, but that you’d like to try something that dealt with more obscure themes, like the occult or the supernatural. He gave you an amused smile, thinking of your taste as interesting and kind of cute. He lent you the perfect book for your request, which you read in record time and spammed his text messages with commentary about it’s ending almost immediately, amusing him through his sleepless working night. Honestly, late working nights had taken a different turn ever since he’d met you, with your occasional messages and even more rare calls. He worried if you got enough sleep, but still, greatly appreciated your figurative company.

One of those late night messaging sessions, you decided to take your relationship a small step forward, aside from talking about books and going for coffee or to the library, you wanted to share a meaningful experience with him. And you’d just gotten a perfect Ad for the situation on your social media.

“Riz, u up?” You began, smiling mischievously for you knew he’d look at his phone with a raised eyebrow when he read your text. “Did you just shorten my name to address me?” He replied, almost immediately, which caught you a bit off guard. It was 2 am after all. “Yes, ur up. Anyways, could you come with me tmrrow to a special event? I really want to go, but none of my friends are interested and I really need someone I can trust to go with” He’d seen it, he stayed in the chat, but he took slightly longer to reply than usual, he was surely thinking about what you meant with “special event”. “…” He started, earning a quiet victory gesture from you on your end. “You trust me?” Your face fell into a pout. How did just three words from him make you feel so bad all of a sudden? You felt like giving him a hug honestly, but sadly, your relationship hadn’t gotten so far, yet. “I think I established that, yes.” You typed down, and after three painful minutes of wait, he came back with a quick, simple answer. “Hour and location, I’ll be there.” After a short pause, he followed the message up with another. “But, if I may ask, what is the event about?” You smiled, feeling your heartbeat chirp away in your chest upon such a quick, assertive and formal response. “A fortune teller is in town and I really want to get my future read.” You almost added “with you”, but refrained. Quickly beaming a bright smile at your phone at his reply. “Alright, sounds good.”

At the reading, the fortune teller tells you she sees a tall, handsome man coming into your life in an unexpected turn of events and invading your mind with thoughts of him. Eventually invading your heart as well. She gives a side glance to Risotto and then back to you, then back to the cards. “Maybe this has already happened or is about to.”

You shift in your seat awkwardly and let out a nervous laugh. “Is there anything else about it?” The lady looks back down once more and flips the three remaining cards, a wide smile on her lips as she gives you both a nod. “I see wealth, happiness and great amounts of love in this reading. You’ll enjoy your lover’s input in your life greatly, long-term. Here, it shows just how intensely they care and nurture you with their knowledge and feelings.” Risotto was looking intently at the fortune teller, and you did not know how to react to this, placing your hands tightly in fists on your lap. “That’s wonderful… Thank you miss, now we better be-” She cuts you off and points at Risotto. “I believe I’ve got a reading for this man too, don’t worry, for the price of only your reading.”

You sit back down, patting your thighs nervously while the woman mixes the tarot cards once more. Risotto chooses his cards and the woman begins flipping them. “I see you’re a man who’s suffered a great deal, this is what your past tells me. Immense amounts of pain, of loss and of uncertainty. You did in fact feel a sense of emptiness and unfullfillment in you, until recently.” She stopped. A knowing smile on her face when she flipped the present cards. “Your present tells me there’s been a femenine figure in your life that has completely bewitched you. She’s managed to carve her presence into your heart and you let her do it willingly. Could it be an innocent crush? Or maybe it’s something deeper?” After hoovering her hands over the cards and closing her eyes for a moment, she clicked her tongue with a mischievous smile on her face. “Yes, you’re completely enthralled. You even often dream about this woman, and it’s not always as innocently as you present it in your heart to be.”

Risotto coughs and looks to the side, you notice he’s nervously playing with his fingers, then he looks back at the woman. Flipping his last cards, she chuckles and claps her hands. “This is a wonderful future ahead of you mister! Nothing but a bright light that you so desperately needed in your life is what occupies your future reading.” She paused, caressing one of the cards with her finger and nodding. “I see a determining turn in your feelings, taking a solid form somewhere soon. During some type of trip maybe? Is it just a date? Or is it you’re going somewhere together?” She questioned for herself, then looked back at you both. “At any rate, I’m very happy for you both.”

You shook your head while waving your hands in front of her, dismissive. “No! It’s not like that! We’re just… friends.” You felt hurt just by uttering the word. And, by what you saw out of the corner of your eye, so was Risotto, who looked at you and back at the fortune teller with a rare, saddened and tense look on his face. “I…” he started, swallowing before getting up from his seat and giving the fortune teller a nod and her money. “I do hope your readings are correct, miss.” He finished in a quiet tone, turning around without looking at you with a slight blush on his cheeks.

Before he exited the room, the lady spoke once more, shuffling the cards back into the deck once more. “You really do feel for the woman in question, do you not, child?” He stopped in his tracks, not turning around and looking down on the floor. After what felt like forever for you, and feeling your heartbeat on your throat, you heard him mutter. “I do.” Then he left. Why was he so dramatic?!

You were about to run after him when the lady directed her speech to you once more. “Miss.” She started, tucking the deck back into a very pretty, fancy looking box. “Cherish him, he’s damaged goods and I get a hunch you are too. He’s risking breaking again just to get to you.”

You gave her an enthusiastic nod and a smile as you ran out to chase after him. “I will, thanks!” You replied after crossing the curtain and stepping outside once more, noticing the subject of your affection standing quite noticeably (why is he so tall??) next to the bus stop’s post, letting the bus leave without him. He was waiting for you even though his embarrassment.

“Riz!” You exclaimed, waving your hand at him and smiling awkwardly as you walked close to him, ending up almost touching his arm with yours when you caught up. He gave you a small smile, and this time you did notice the dimple that formed on his face. Not helping it, you giggled and pointed it out. “You get dimples when you smile, that’s an adorable contrast to your serious look.” He coughed whilst covering his mouth with his fist and pretended to look at the timetable once more. “Don’t say that.” He muttered, and you felt your lips turn down into a confused pout. “Why not?”

He turned to look at you, raising his arm and hoovering his index and middle finger over your lips, not touching but almost, feeling the warmth from them seep into your lower lip. “Because I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it as well next time. And I want to keep being your…” He dragged off, letting the sentence die down in his throat as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, thinking about something and noticing how his mouth curved slightly down.

You slowly rose your hand and grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand and letting it rest flat on your cheek instead, tilting your head and nuzzling into the touch of his hand. “Riz.” You prodded him, giving him a gentle smile. You swallowed trying to disguise the huge ball of nerves you were right there, with his hand on your face as you’d dreamed all those late nights where you texted and wanted to have him there instead. After a deep breath, you closed your eyes and gave the hand on your face a gentle press against it. “I’m in love with you, I think.” You finally confessed.

Not having the time to even open your eyes, you felt your body lift off the ground, being prompted into strong arms and instinctively wrapping your arms into this person’s neck. As you were being held bridal style in the most stupidly romantic scenario, the sunset bathing both your figures and the delightful summer breeze blowing away your worries, you felt a pair of plump lips press against yours, gently, clearly filled with sentiment but still keeping the sensation as sweet.

You stared at him through half lidded eyes and finally, kissed him back, which earned a pleased grunt on his part and a small tug on your bottom lip. Then he broke off the kiss, seemingly coming back to his senses. Quickly, he dropped you off (careful not to hurt you and placing you with practiced gentleness on the ground), his expression apologetic and extremely distressed, not knowing where to place his hands.

“Y/N I’m, I’m so immensely sorry, I didn’t mean to- Well I did but I didn’t- I don’t know if I should-” He was stuttering, he didn’t know what to say and was sincerely panicking over the simple thought of you not ever wanting to see him again, or worse, you disliking him. You gave him a small smile, pressing two fingers to your lower lip whilst relishing the sensation to yourself. When you looked back at him, he seemed to be weirdly quiet, staring at your gesture, confused. “Risotto.” You began, tentatively stretching your arm and gently touching his hand with yours with the purpose of holding his in yours. When you did, you felt him take a sharp breath in, looking at you, expectant. “…Then does this mean it was okay to-” He got cut off by himself when he shut his mouth tight after seeing you rise his hand in yours to your lips and giving it a loving kiss.

“Risotto, please do that as many more times as you’d like. I loved it.”

The man was over the moon, prompting you into his arms once more, this time holding you by your hips and placing another tender kiss on you, a small triumphant smile lingering on his lips.

When dating, he’d love to laze around his or your place on a couch or in bed, watching horror movies or having you rest on his lap while you let him play with your hair and hum a soft tune. He’ll only do this when you’re alone though, he won’t appear so vulnerable and soft in front of anyone else.

For your birthday, expect him to always gift you the same things. A new tiny plant, a book of his choice and an item that caters to your obscure tastes. Will it be a tarot deck, a creepy doll, an amulet this time? Who knows, only Nero knows.

He knows you love cats, so eventually, he’ll surprise you with a cute big box on Christmas, when you open it, you did not expect the tiniest, cutest kitten to be inside of it. As soon as it saw you both and meowed, you threw yourself into Risotto’s arms and showered him in kisses, which he couldn’t help but chuckle about and hold you tight so you wouldn’t fall from your monkey hug.

“See? I got her a tabby, so you can’t joke about it being bad luck.”

You just love so much this man what did you do to deserve him.

He actually really likes to cook when he’s got the time to! So get ready for nice fancy dinner nights when you get to meet after work or on weekends!

He’s surprisingly really cuddly once you’re behind closed doors, and, well, if you suggest it, a little bit more than cuddly too.

When one summer he comes back home announcing he got a slight raise in his pay, you can’t do anything but jump from the sofa and run at him for a hug, which he takes advantage of and sweeps you off your feet, giving you a welcome kiss instead and, once you’re back down in the floor, he takes an envelope from his back pocket and gives it to you. The amount of love and pampering the Italian got that night was memorable when you noticed the contents of the envelope were plane tickets to that place you always so dearly wanted to visit.

He’ll read to you in a quiet, murmuring voice when you can’t sleep at night, having you rest against his chest or his side as he lets his reading glasses rest on the tip of his nose, which you laugh about sometimes, but he shushes you with a kiss on your forehead or the tip of your nose telling you to “quiet down and hurry sleep”.

He won’t get your bad puns at first, he’s dense like that. But, eventually, you’ll hear him let out bad puns as well when you’re at home, or whispered into your ear as you wait in line in public. You’d let out a pun and he’d look you dead into your eyes and after cracking half a smile he’ll reply with “That, wasn’t very punny of you, my dear.” Please laugh he looks so happy with his progress he’s aching for your bad pun validation.

Bruno Buccellati!

Bruno just really likes how you have this kind, easygoing nature to yourself, yet never quiet down if you want to speak out about something. Strong and kind, he thought of you very highly!

He does feel quite the scare when you mention your rather unconventional likings, but he can’t help but listen with a tender expression on his face. He can’t help it! You look so happy talking about it he just feels bound to listening.

Bruno will be very nurturing towards you. He’ll surprise you with gifts now and then. Need new art supplies? He’s got you. New books to read? He’ll take you shopping for one. Just need a hug and someone to talk with? He’ll be at your door in negative seconds.

He gives you very good advise with your plants! He didn’t look it, but he’d read enough books about tending to plants to know his stuff when he told you.

He really likes cuddles, he lives for it. Be it after a long day at work, after an entire day in the house, a date day, even out in public, he won’t mind the stares and he’ll hold you close into a hug from behind, resting his chin on your head.

Will absolutely never let you eat takeout if his life depends on it. You either eat his home-cooking or yours, but if you do anything else, perish. (Not perish, he’d rather die for you instead but like, you get it.)

Sometimes you’ll help him out with his work by sitting next to him on his desk, and he’ll thank you with a smile, a sweet kiss and a promise of a nice dinner date. He’ll do the same for you when he’s free from his work! Though he’ll be the one to thank you for letting him help you, sitting you on his lap and spending the rest of the day into each other’s arms.

Brochup: Prosciutto!

Being his boss’s significant other, he’s bound to interact with you more often than usual. Be it him bringing you flowers or breakfast at his boss’s request or just dropping by to take some papers from the apartment, Prosciutto had gradually opened up to you. Even so much as sometimes excusing himself with a false “Risotto told me to fetch something” and spend some time at your place, sitting on the sofa with you while he rambles about his tedious work and you offer him some snacks as consolation.

He really likes you, he finds you sincere, strong and posed. He admires that on a person, and is very happy his superior had found such a partner for himself. Even sometimes, he found himself wondering what it would be like if he were the one in a relationship like yours. He held your relationship as his ideal in the romantic spectrum.

Though not a big fan of occultism, he could get behind you liking supernatural stuff. He even mentioned once he enjoyed reading about cryptid creatures online on his spare time, it was interesting, for him at least.

You opened a whole new world to him; writing. He’d never in his life had written anything for pleasure. And there you were, telling him he could write down anything he thought about into a document on his laptop or a notebook and it would be wonderful. Not long after, he’d bring you his drafts for you to read through. You noticed he had a liking for writing poetry and short descriptive stories about his surroundings, experiences and feelings. You realized he was a very deep person, and when you pointed it out, he blushed and snatched the text from you, muttering an embarrassed “thank you”. He wasn’t good with compliments.

#prosciutto #risotto nero #bruno buccellati #moodboard matchup #matchup #matchup request #jojosthetic-boogaloo #marysuepatrol #submission #jjba #vento aureo

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dark-arts-and-crafts-universe · 3 years

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Glass Hearts (Part 2)

Glass Hearts

Note: this story is set a few decades before the canon’s present day

In which Farina Baker, prodigal daughter of a long line of witches, unwillingly reunites with her sister and meets a mysterious man. What is her sister scheming, and what is this stranger’s deal?

Previous | Table of Contents | Next

Part 2

Word count: 1,643

Content warnings: no major warnings

“Remind me why I’m doing this again?”

Farina sighed into the phonebooth’s receiver. “Because if my sister wants me in the restaurant at a certain time, it means she’s scheming, and I want no part in it.”

“I mean, okay--” Jen was back in the restaurant relaying everything through the landline. “--but who am I on the lookout for?”

“A guy.”

“That’s really not helpful.”

“I don’t have a lot else to go on, Jen,” Farina said. “If you see someone who looks like he peaked as a high school quarterback, then it’s the old guy my sister sunk her claws into, otherwise it could just be any new guy.”

“Right.” A long pause. Farina hoped she could figure this out soon--she couldn’t stay in the phonebooth all night. She did not have that many quarters. “Oh, hey.”

“What?”

“It’s corner table. He’s a guy. You think it’s him?”

Farina had no idea who that was. “Who?”

“He came in, like, months back, stiffed me on a tip. You got it back for me.”

That could be it, but Farina really didn’t remember him. “You sure this is the same guy?”

“Oh yeah. I was totally a crow in my past life, we remember the faces of people who wronged us.” She added on, “He sort of had this backpacker look? Huge bag. With a hat. Is that the same shirt as last time?”

Farina considered those words, then remembered a flash of magic and a strangely unemotional potentially-broke potential-asshole. “Oh, that is him! Okay, you can hang up now, but call the payphone when he leaves so I know to follow him.”

“Ten-four.” Jen hung up.

As she waited for the signal, Farina fingered her secret weapon. Using pepper to cast a sneezing hex was one of the first spells any kind of food witch learned to cast. All it took was boosting the natural chemical properties of the pepper plant ever-so-slightly. Literal child’s play. She had fond memories of trying it with her cousins when she was seven or so.

Of course, nobody would think to use a hex that weak for self-defense. Especially if they worked with Mercy, who’d always preferred her spells to be...sharper. Was it still self-defense if she was arranging an ambush? Self-offense? She was going to call it “proactive long-term self-defense”. In any event, what Mercy didn’t know was that Farina had taught herself how to take the spell just a little bit further.

People underestimated emotion magic. They didn’t consider the influence emotions had on the physical body. Heat, chills, even making the lungs seize and the heart stop. You could get it all with just the right emotional stimulus. It went the other way around, too. Studies had shown people were more likely to find someone attractive if they met somewhere exciting, like a suspension bridge. The mind felt the increase of breath, the pulsing of adrenaline--all physical symptoms--but interpreted them as something emotional. That was why food was such an effective medium for her magic; it got you to the heart by way of the stomach. But the mucus membranes of the nasal passageways could do in a pinch.

The phone finally rang, and Farina made sure to wait until the stranger was halfway down the block before she stepped out of the booth. No sense giving him a chance to catch on.

The walk took them both past a series of artisans’ shops Farina liked to visit whenever she’d saved some spending money. The man stopped for a moment to admire a set of hanging glass panels in the display. She forced herself not to slow down; the nerves were more than she’d been expecting.

At the end of the block, the stranger ducked down a side street to the right. Ah, perfect. He was obviously some kind of visitor, didn’t know the area. He didn’t know that alleyway was a dead end.

Farina got her shaker ready, turned into the side street--and stopped. The alley was empty. Not a soul to be seen, or felt, and there wasn’t anywhere for a person to hide. She tossed a shakeful of the pepper anyways. This stranger was magical. He liked the glass art. Glass could be invisibility magic. But the crushed peppercorn fell flatly to the ground, revealing nothing.

She took a step back, trying to work through this puzzle. If there was nothing here, maybe the man she’d been following was the illusion? It wasn’t until she tried to turn around and salvage things that she became aware, almost all at once, of a presence behind her, and a battered old knife snaked its way up to her neck. A hand covered her own and gripped the pepper shaker tightly, and Farina didn’t need to test its strength to know she was, for the moment, disarmed.

She forced herself to breathe evenly. Breathing slowed the panic. Panic got you killed. “Well played,” she told the stranger. “The knife’s a bit much. I’m pretty sure Mercy didn’t hire you to kill me.”

The hand holding the knife didn’t move, in either direction. “Is that a codeword or something?” the stranger asked.

“Oh, don’t play stupid.”

“Don’t need to play at that. What’s ‘Mercy’?”

Farina frowned, confused. If she had to make a guess, she'd say he felt genuine. Not that it meant much for a man so hard to read. “Not a what. A who. My sister. Have you talked to someone recently who looks almost exactly like me?”

The stranger craned his head around hers, studying her features. He was close enough Farina could see the uneven shave of his stubble. “Uh. No. Sorry, do I know you?” he asked.

“Only in passing.” The knife retreated at that, though Farina sensed a tiny thrum of cautious appraisal as it did. Farina tugged gently at her pepper shaker and, when the stranger made no move to hold onto it, stepped out from between his arms. “So is that how you greet all your friends, then?” She tried to make her voice light, but she turned to keep his knife in view. She was still technically cornered, and no longer quite so confident the pepper trick could change that.

“I don’t have a lot of those.”

“I wonder why,” Farina murmured.

The stranger didn’t seem to take offense, judging by the short laugh. “Yes, well. Is that why you were following me?” he asked. “You thought I was working for this Mercy person?”

“How did you know I was following you?”

He smiled, a flat, lopsided thing. “You’re not as smooth as you think you are.”

Well. This was a deeply unproductive and embarrassing evening. She could feel herself starting to flush. “So the knife,” she asked, “that’s because you noticed me following you?”

Another smile, this one grim. "Better safe than sorry. I've learned not to take chances when strangers take too much an interest in me."

“Sorry for the mix-up.” Only, the more Farina talked to him, she wasn’t sure it was a mix-up. Mercy had known the exact shift this stranger would show up at, only the second time in--what, months?--he’d ever visited the restaurant. He had some kind of magic, and was clearly accustomed to dangerous situations. It seemed unlikely that there would be another equally interesting man in the diner right now. “Although. Follow-up question. Do you know of any reasons an evil bread sorceress might be scrying after you?”

For the first time since she’d met the stranger, Farina caught a flicker of clear, unfiltered emotion. Dread mixed with resignation. The feeling of ‘here we go again’, so to speak. “I mean,” he said. “There might be a few. How evil are we talking here?”

“Nothing I can prove just yet. But she’s got very bad vibrations.”

He studied her for a minute, and Farina had never wished more keenly to be able to read someone. Then he settled against the wall, arms crossed. It was a maneuver that kept his knife hidden from anyone walking past the alley but still in her line of sight, the blade tucked right against his bicep in a sort of careful carelessness Farina didn’t think she could imitate if she tried. Still, the stranger’s stance against the wall left the rest of the alleyway wide open. It was as clear a signal Farina could see that he’d let her leave if she wanted. “Tell me about this sorceress,” he said.

Farina didn’t leave.

“My sister Mercy is a seer,” she explained. “She told me that a man I knew would be at the restaurant today. She wanted me to meet him. You.”

“And we...know each other?”

She shrugged. “In passing. You stiffed my friend on a tip months ago, it’s not a big deal--”

“Sorry,” he said, and it was just as insincere as the first time, “I can never keep track of those.”

Farina sighed. “So you said. It’s not much of a connection, but you know how seers are. Bump into someone on the street and you’re bound together by destiny.” He chuckled at that. “Look, no offense, I’m sure you’re perfectly pleasant--” When he wasn’t drawing knives on people. “--but my sister introducing me to people has never ended well.”

“Because of the bad vibrations?” he teased.

“Yes,” she said primly. “She knows something big, I know it but I don’t know what her endgame is.”

The stranger grunted, then peeled himself off the wall. “I think I’d like to know what she knows, myself. You wouldn’t know where I can find her this time of night, would you?”

“Are you going to threaten her with a knife?” Farina asked, face carefully blank.

His eyes glinted. “I might.”

She let the smile she’d been holding back creep onto her face. “Then I want to watch.”

#original fiction #writing #fantasy #romance #dark arts and crafts #farina #mystery man #lorcan's family #glass hearts

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sharigone · 7 years

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Summary: “ Her endless pools reflected the moon in the most wonderful way. In some weird way, I felt connected to Hinata and almost protective over her. I wanted things to go her way and I’d do my hardest to help.” College AU. Rated T, might be changed to M later.

Pairing: NaruHina

Bleachers Chapter Two: O, Romeo

“A romance play! You didn’t tell me it would be a romance!” I groaned when he handed me the scripts.

It would be super hard to convince Hinata to join me on this one. I can already see her running off the stage when our characters have to profess their love to each other. It couldn’t hurt to try though, maybe she’ll agree to it just for the scholarship. Although I wish Sai would’ve warned me ahead of time.

Today there would be an orientation in the theatre about auditions and call backs and the auditions would start the following day. Basically all we had to do is show up and sign up. Hinata and I decided to meet up in my dorm room with Sasuke after she is done with her Calculus course since the dorms were close by. Worked perfectly. We would have at least an hour to go over the lines and hopefully go to the orientation if she still wanted to go through with it.

Until then, I decided I’d play games with the guys before they had to go to class. Shikamaru and Sasuke always tried to find the smart way to the goal in our multiplayer mission but I liked doing things head first, so usually when we play our video games together, we ended up arguing about which route is the best route before we just end up blowing stuff up on the game.

“Damn it, Naruto! I told you to take cover by the car, not throw grenades!” Shikamaru slammed his controller.

“Now you alerted the enemy.” Sasuke squinted his eyes at me.

“Why walk on eggshells when a grenade can take out about half of them?”

“You never think these things through and it drags the mission.”

“Whatever. You’re just mad because I like to actually utilize the weapons we have.” I waved them off, getting up to grab some soda.

“Hey, what’s that over there?” Sasuke nudged his head towards the script.

“Nothing.” I shielded it from his view.

This only irritated him and he snatched it from behind me.

“A play?” Shikamaru raised his eyebrow, “Not just any play, but a romance. Just wait until Chouji and Kiba hear about this.”

“No! Whatever you do, don’t tell Kiba!” I waved my arms frantically.

If Kiba got any word of this, I would have no end to all of the theatre jokes and pokes.

“I can already hear the dog-faced idiot.” Sasuke snickered to himself, “O, Romeo where art thou?”

“Shut up, will ya!” I punched his arm, “Don’t you guys have a class to go to?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. See ya… Romeo.” Shikamaru got his bag and left with Sasuke.

I cursed to myself and kicked my door shut. They were definitely telling Kiba; they couldn’t possibly resist such a golden moment. It was only a few minutes before I heard a light tapping on the door which could only come from Hinata. I happily greeted her and let her inside. She fidgeted with her hair and her scarf as she sat down on my bed so I decided to try to make her a little more comfortable.

“How was class?” I started.

“It was fine. Just graphing and unknown variables, the usual.” she turned her head to the side.

I got the scripts and handed on to her, “I’ll let you read through it before we get started.”

“Penelope.” she read the title, “The play is Greek?”

“Uh, yeah.” I nodded, sitting across from her in my swivel chair.

We silently read the entire script together. The drama team decided to do a more modern take on the old Greek play to attract a broader audience which I thought was pretty cool. I finished reading the script but I knew she finished when her usual light pink tint spread across her cheeks.

“A romance.” she stuttered between her words.

“Yeah, I had no clue. Sai didn’t care to let me know about that.” I scratched behind my head nervously, “If this is too much for you, it’s okay to back out.”

She thought about if for a second, her gaze glancing all around the room before she stuck out her pinky towards me.

“We made a promise remember?”

“Yeah. Are you sure though?” I wrapped my bigger pinky around her’s.

She nodded, “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

I let out a hearty laugh and leaned back in my chair, “I’ve always known you were funny, Hinata.”

She brought her hands up to her lips and let out a small chuckle at her own joke.

“I’m really gonna have to break out of my shell if I’m going to play Penelope.” she noted.

“You can do it, keep your eyes on the prize.”

“Right. Shall we go over the lines?”

I gave a quick nod as we started to rehearse the lines and before we knew it, it was time to head out to the theatre. The director of the play was Miss Fuyu, she apparently did Broadway once and was an expert in everything related to plays and musicals. I saw Sai painting in the background with a few other people while Miss Fuyu gave everyone a run down of how auditions and callbacks work, the story behind the play, and the schedules. Hinata took all the notes and listened attentively to everything she was saying. At the end of the orientation we had to sign the sheet and put down which role we were trying for. I, of course but Odysseus and Hinata put down Penelope. Tomorrow we’d have to meet at the theatre at the same time which would a bit of a rush since both Hinata and I had class before then. We’d make it work though.

“Do you think Miss Fuyu will want us to do the entire play for the audition or just a certain scene?” Hinata asked as we walked out of the theatre.

“Gee, I dunno.” I thought a little, “Guess we find out tomorrow.”

“I was just wondering because..” she fumbled between her words, “Y’know because… of that scene at the end.”

“Oh, yeah.” I chuckled nervously.

There was a kiss scene at the end of the play. I knew exactly what she was worried about.

“I’ve never actually kissed...anyone.” she admitted, turning her head away from me.

“Wait what?” I stopped our walk and turned her to look at me, “Not once! Not even a peck?”

She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

“C’mon, Hinata! That’s crazy, I mean you’re really pretty how could it not have happened?”

She let out a small gasp before raised her hands up to cover her cheeks, shaking her head furiously.

“My nose is always in a book. Besides, I wasn’t ever really interested.”

I guess I can see where she’s coming from. My first kiss was accidental with Sasuke of all people, but we buried that deep in the grave and it is never supposed to be brought up again. And then there was that time in my first year in university when I had seven minutes in heaven with this girl named, Saya. That was less than pleasant, I had no experience and she insisted on shoving her tongue down my throat. I could gag at the very thought. Yikes.

“You don’t want your first kiss being with me?” I smirked mischievously.

“No, no it’s not that!” she shrieked.

“Oh, so you do want to kiss me.” I had to admit I liked seeing her get all worked up.

Her face was beet red and she did her best to hide herself in her hair, “Naruto!”

“I’m just messing with you.” I bursted out laughing and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, continuing our walk.

She gently poked my side and pouted, her face still red. Oh, this was pure gold.

“That was not nice, Naruto!”

“Oh, c’mon it was funny. At least a little!”

She shook her head defiantly.

“C’mon!”

“Nope!”

“Admit it! It was a good one.”

“Slightly.” she bubbled up in laughter.

“That's more I like it.” I laughed with her, “I’ve got class right now but we’re all going out for drinks later, wanna join?”

“Um, it sounds like fun.” she glanced my way before looking back down at her feet.

“Cool! See ya there!” I gave her a thumbs up before running off to the Communications building.

I turned my back once and saw her back where we stood, smiling and waving at me. Her hair contrasting the sun in the most mesmerizing way. I had a small feeling I’d have a hard time keeping her out of my head.

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#naruhina #naruto #naruhina fanfiction #anime #sharigone

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coffeeandcas · 7 years

Text

The Art of Love

Part II of my SPN Summer Trope Party is up! AO3 Link.

Despite his outward appearance, Dean Winchester has always been a romantic at heart. At 22 he met the love of his life and married him three years later. Two months after their wedding, Benny was taken from him under tragic circumstances and Dean resigned himself to the idea that he would never find love again.

Then he meets corporate litigation lawyer Cas Collins, and his whole world tilts on its axis.

Tropes: opposites attract/love at first sight feat. punk!Dean and corporate!Cas.

Rating: E for Explicit.

***

They had met at San Francisco Pride. Benny had been with his friends, smiling and drinking and looking divine in leather pants and a black chest harness, and Dean had instantly been taken with him. He had been young then, only 22, fresh-faced and eager, and Benny had wandered over to him a few minutes later, pressed a bottle of beer into his hands and kissed him. And that, as they say, was that.

Now, years on, on the anniversary of his late husband’s death, Dean is dressing to go out and do what he always does on his least favourite day of the year. Drink.

He doesn't drink to forget, because he knows Benny would hate that. He goes to the bar they always hung out at, and downs a few Jacks in memory of his faded relationship. One shot for the first day they met. One for the day Benny proposed and Dean was so shocked he said no. One for the day they married, hot and sweaty and laughing under the California sun. And one last one, for the day Benny walked into into a burning condo to save a family pet and never walked back out again. Sometimes people from the fire department will show up to drink with him. Sometimes not. He doesn't mind either way.

Today, nobody comes. Dean sits at the bar and stares at his own reflection in the mirror backing bottles of gin, whiskey, vodka and schnapps. His hair is a faded pink at the moment, the front styled into a vintage quiff and the sides buzzed pretty short. He eyes his neck tattoos with mild interest, wondering if he has room for another, in between the feathers of the wings that curve up his back and wrap around his throat and collarbone and the Enochian script detailing a spell for immortality. He's been interested in celestial mythology for years, and his skin is marked in a variety of places with the language of the angels. He sighs. Benny had loved his ink. The sprawling patterns and artistry that cover his shoulders, both arms and most of his chest have taken him years to perfect, and he's still working on them. He has a piece in mind for his stomach and upper thigh, which he's already booked in for. After Benny’s sudden death, a life insurance policy had allowed Dean to quit the garage he hated working at and instead enabled him to pursue his passion in life: the arts. It had taken him a while to work up to using Benny’s money on himself, but had eventually been coaxed into it by his younger brother who insisted Benny would want his happiness. He had apprenticed at a tattoo parlour, worked at a record shop, and now works as a curator at a modern art gallery deep in the underground heart of the city he loves so much. He sighs, touches his fingers to an unmarked space just between his collar bone and Adam's apple. What could he put here?

His thoughts are rudely interrupted by the start of a bar brawl and he makes a sharp exit out into the balmy night. In the past, he would cheerfully have joined the fray but not now. Now he doesn't see the point. Why fight and scrap and claw your way through life when your mere existence is so fragile? He heads instead to an indie bar across the street, painfully cool and packed full of hipsters, because he doesn't fancy going home just yet. He normally has one last drink after his shot to honour Benny’s death: one for himself, to signify his continued life after such a loss. Life after death.

He pushes open the door to the bar and fights his way over to order a drink. As suspected, everything is expensive and too cool for him, and he stands out a mile in his leather jacket and lip stud. Oh, and the pink hair never fails to draw attention. He runs a hand through it, scrunching it up at the front then smoothing it back, musing. Perhaps green next, to match his eyes. Or maybe…

He turns, walks smack into someone standing too close behind him, and they both spill their drinks on each other. Fuck.

“Oh, God, I'm so sorry.” The other man is immediately babbling his apologies in a low, rich voice that sends shivers down Dean’s spine. “My fault. Utterly. Please, let me buy you another…”

And he looks up from wiping beer from his suit and tie, his eyes lock on to Dean’s, and time comes to a halt. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears, hear the hiss of his breath as he inhales and exhales, but all he can see are the blue eyes of the stranger; all he can smell is his cologne; all he can feel is longing. Like the pull of gravity altering the path of a comet. And by the way the other man’s lips part and his eyes widen just a touch, he feels it too. Dean is sure time is passing, seconds, maybe even minutes, but they just stare at each other, mesmerised. The guy is gorgeous, there's no doubt about it, but Dean barely even notices. All he knows is that he's staring deep into the eyes of someone he was meant to meet. The blue eyes are dark and layered, and could contain galaxies of their own if they glittered just a little more. Dean hears himself take a deep breath in, then on the exhale he just about manages, “hi”.

Blue... he should dye his hair blue... definitely blue...

“Hello.” That voice again, like warm melting caramel, and for some reason an innate hunger sweeps through Dean. Hunger for what he hasn't a clue, but whatever it is he wants it. The other man is smiling now, his hand on Dean's arm to steady him even though he's standing up perfectly fine on his own. Neither of them hear the exasperated voice until the speaker is right beside them, hissing dramatically and waving a hand in front of the man’s face and just like that the spell is broken.

“Cas! Heaven’s above, I've been calling you for an entire minute.” The man, British and stuck-up looking, eyes Dean with disinterest. “It's my round. What shall I get you?”

“The same again, please, Bal.” The man, Cas, hasn't broken Dean’s gaze for even a second. “And the same for…”

The pause extends just long enough to become awkward before Dean realises he's supposed to speak. “Oh! Winchester. Dean, I mean. Dean Winchester. That's… my name. Hi.”

“Hello.” Cas says again, this time with a drop of amusement in his voice. “Dean.”

And fuck if that didn't go right through him like a bolt of lightning. Damn. Who the hell is this guy and why is every cell Dean possesses itching to launch itself at him? Body, mind, heart and soul?

“Here.” Another long, long minute passes with them both just watching each other, studying the lines of each other's faces, and soon the bitchy Brit is back and is shoving drinks at them. “Jesus. Get a room, for all our sakes!”

And like that Dean realises where they are. In a crowded bar, and they certainly aren't alone. Cas appears to be with friends, if a quick glance over his shoulder at the snickering group is anything to go by, and Dean’s entire upper body flushes with embarrassment. What were they just doing? Staring at each other like two lovesick puppies?! What the hell, man?

He starts stammering his thanks for the drink whilst simultaneously trying to press it into Cas’ hands, but warm fingers wrap around his wrist and he finds himself being tugged through the throng of people to the door, where it's quieter and they're shielded from gawking onlookers. Cas looks him up and down, a once-over but not the type Dean is familiar with. He's used to disdain, judgement, surprise, even distaste. But this look is different. It seems… awed.

“I'm Cas,” The guy says, and he leans in close to Dean as he says it, his cologne thick and spicy and so good. It seems to envelop them both in a pleasant haze and they both move just a bit closer. “It's nice to meet you, Dean. I apologise for spilling your drink.”

“I think you already said that.” Dean’s mouth is drier than the Gobi desert. “But it's OK. It's fine. You're fine.”

“I am?” Cas raises a perfect eyebrow and Dean groans internally. Get it together, Winchester. You never seen a hot guy before?

“No, no, you're not fine. It's fine. I'm fine. You're not. I mean, maybe you are I don't know… are you? Fine?” For fuck’s sake. Dean normally has a silver tongue and charm for days. What on earth has happened to him since stepping into this bar? He's turned into a gibbering wreck akin to his teenage years.

“I'm much better now that I've met you.” Oh, damn. It's a line, naturally, but Dean loves it all the same. He waits to see if there's more. “Maybe this is too forward…” The air surely crackles around them where Cas’ fingers come up to brush his shoulder. “But… are you seeing anyone?”

Dean shakes his head, his lips part to speak but nothing comes out. Cas smiles. “Good. Then, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?” His right hand slides down to clasp Dean’s left, and a second later his gaze follows it and he frowns. Dean looks too, puzzled, then he realises. Damn. His wedding ring. It's pressing into Cas’ finger.

“I'm not married,” he says quickly, too quickly. He's always hated this part, and luckily hasn't had to do it very often. The men he's been with since Benny have been quick flings, no dinner dates mentioned, and only a couple have asked. “I mean, I was. Before. Uhm.”

“You're separated?” Cas’ eyes look a little wary now, but he hasn't let go of Dean’s hand. A good sign.

“No.” He's calm, calmer than he normally is when discussing Benny. Weird. “He passed away. A few years ago. Firefighter. I'm OK with it.” Stop talking, Deano.

“I'm so sorry,” Cas says and, oddly enough, it looks like he really is. He isn't just saying it to be polite. He grips Dean’s hand just a little tighter and is shyer when he next speaks. “If you don't want to go out together, I’d understand.”

“No. I do.” His heart is racing once more, this time with nervous excitement. A date, his first date since he was 22. And with the most incredible guy he's seen since he was 25. How could he not want to?

“I'm glad.” Cas smiles and pulls him a bit closer. Suddenly the bar seems to melt away, the lights around them blurring and expanding to encase them in their own private moment. His breathing accelerates. Is Cas going to…

Cas kisses him, softly, on the cheek and presses a card into his hand.

“Text me in the morning and we’ll make plans.” Then he steps away, looking full of regret. Before he lets go of Dean’s hand he lifts it and presses a kiss to his tattooed knuckles. “See you tomorrow, Dean Winchester.”

He walks away and Dean is left staring after him, wondering how everyone else is just carrying on as normal when it feels like his whole world is transforming around him.

Cas looks drop-dead gorgeous when he meets Dean outside his building the following evening. He's in much more casual attire - dark, fitted, expensive jeans paired with a soft, luxurious t-shirt and a pale grey jacket slung over the top. His hair is artfully disheveled and his eyes almost glow softly in the early evening light. Dark hair, blue eyes, layered muscle under his clothes… Dean definitely has a type and Cas is hitting every mark. He's barely slept for thinking about the other man and that chaste, fleeting kiss on the cheek, and had spent an anxious day torn between worry and excitement about their upcoming date. But as Cas walks towards him, Dean forgets it all. Forgets that he's a little tired, a little nervous, and all he sees is Cas. The wind messes Cas’ hair as he reaches Dean and comes to a stop, smiling like he's just laid eyes on the most beautiful thing in creation. Dean almost checks behind himself to see what he's looking at, then blushed as he realises: Cas has eyes only for him.

They eat at a small pizzeria down a side-street, and talk for hours. Three courses, two bottles of wine, and eventually the waiters have to subtly ask them to leave because they need to close the doors, and they both laugh in shocked surprise as they realise it's well past midnight. Hand-in-hand, they walk through the busy city streets and carry on talking, with no destination in mind, just the desire for it not to end yet. Dean learns about Cas. He's a corporate litigation lawyer, one of the best, and he enjoys his job. He has siblings, has no pets, enjoys to read spy novels and watch foreign films. He shares his own passions with Cas and the man listens avidly, his hand leaving Dean’s to come to rest on his hip, his arm firm and possessive across his back. Dean leans towards him a little more with each step and soon they're walking pressed together. Cas takes Dean’s other hand in his, and when they reach the glossy revolving doors of a hotel Cas stops them and just looks at Dean.

“This is me.”

“Oh.” Dean is lost, swept away in ocean-blue eyes.

“My apartment is being refurbished. I'm staying here for a week.”

“Oh.” Nothing more intelligent comes to mind.

“Should I walk you home?” Cas is so close now, his arm snug and tight around Dean’s waist and they're sharing a breath. “Or…?”

Dean tilts his head. Cas gets it, and takes the invitation, lowering his lips to the tender skin of his beautifully tattooed throats to press gentle kisses there. Dean sighs, and his decision is signed and sealed.

“I like the sound of or.”

“Top or bottom?” Cas murmurs into Dean’s hair, so gruffly and quietly that Dean almost misses the words. He's occupied, cut him some slack: he's pinned against a wall, his legs wrapped around Cas’ waist, one hand on the other man’s neck and the other in his hair, and he's being kissed to within an inch of his life. Cas keeps locking their mouths together, lapping at Dean’s tongue, then pulls back to attack his neck with nips and bites and soothing licks. It's heaven.

“I, uh, dunno… Both… whatever you want, you decide…” Dean is being kissed again and it's so passionate and intense that he's breathless and panting with it all. The heat between them has built to a staggering level already, and Cas shifts him against the wall, pressing closer.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas actually growls this time. He captures Dean’s los again, crushing their mouth together and breathes, “Tell me. I want to know.”

“I… mmm, that's so good…” Cas has pulled Dean’s v-neck t-shirt to one side and is sucking a deep red mark into the hollow of his collarbone. He struggles to focus: what do I want? I want him. I want control. I want to be controlled. I want him to take me. I want to see his face as I take him. I want his hands, his mouth, I want him on top of me, underneath me, I just want him so much… “Everything, Cas, I want it all. Whatever you wanna do to me, I'm yours.”

“Nuh-uh.” Cas nips him, hard enough to mark, and Dean groans, gripping his hair and pulling him closer. It's a silent request for him to do that again. “If you can't decide then I guess we’ll just have to do more of this until you do.”

Then Cas’ hands come under his thighs and he turns them away from the wall, displaying surprising strength as he carries Dean across the hotel room with ease, depositing him on the bed and falling on top of him to continue their make-out session. Hands pull and drag at clothes, yanking t-shirts off and fumbling with belt buckles. Shoes are kicked off and hit the floor with a thud, and throughout it all Cas keeps kissing Dean. Kissing him like he's something precious and someone to be worshipped, but at the same time it's heated and dirty and they both pant with lust, worked up.

“You,” Dean gasps as Cas rakes his nails down his sides. “I want you. I want you inside my body.”

He groans as warm, wet lips move to suck at his nipple, then gasps as he's bitten gently. His legs fall apart and Cas settles between them, both of them blissfully nude, hot between their thighs and he can already feel dampness between them. One or both of them is dripping with need already, and he's sure it's him. He's never felt so turned on in his life from nothing more than making-out, and lets his head fall back and just enjoys as Cas works him over. His throat, his chest, his sensitive nipples, the cut of his abs and lower: Cas licks and kisses him everywhere. Everywhere. He opens Dean up using his mouth and thumbs, and Dean comes with a helpless moan, thighs pressed to up his own chest and completely exposed to the endless pleasure the older man is unleashing on him.

Then they're fucking, and Dean is brought close to a second climax by nothing but the feel of Cas’ cock pumping in and out of him at an agonisingly slow pace. Deep, sensual thrusts make him whine and gasp, and soon he's rocking his hips down and impaling himself even deeper, gasping out and sobbing with need, want, desperation, and something else. Something that frightens and intrigues him, and it's something he sees mirrored in Cas’ eyes as the other man looks down at him, driving himself into Dean’s body over and over and kissing every part of skin he can reach. They fuck for hours, Dean on his back, then his hands and knees, then pinned against the wall with his legs around Cas’ waist (he loves this, he screams Cas’ name and arches on his cock, hands tight in dark hair and lips biting a caress into his neck), then on his back again, exposed and desperate and falling.

As he comes again, crying out helplessly, there are words on his lips that should terrify him. He doesn't know if he says them: the pleasure than crests and breaks over him ignites his whole body and he arches, his muscles contracting and spasming deliciously as Cas pushes into him one final time and comes, hard, deep inside Dean. He doesn't need to verbalise the thought that drifts through his hazy, post-orgasm mind: he wishes they hadn't used a condom. He wants to feel Cas, wants to be connected to him in every way.

Next time. Next time…

“You're incredible, Dean.” Cas is braced on his forearms, lying in the V of Dean’s hips, and is kissing him with slow desire, panting just a little and skin shining with sweat. “You're… I feel like… yeah. You… I…”

“Me too.” Dean stares up and runs his fingers through Cas’ hair. “Me too, Cas. Me too.”

They don't sleep. They're afraid of missing even a single second in the other’s presence. Dean lies sprawled on his back while Cas explores his body from the top down, tracing the lines of each tattoo and listening avidly as Dean talks about them. His touch is feather-light and sends tingles rippling across Dean’s skin in its wake.

“What does this say?” Cas traces a line of words in beautiful script that arcs across Dean’s ribs and Dean smiles bashfully.

“It's a charm, for infinite happiness. It's in Enochian. The language of-”

“The angels.” Cas’ voice is soft and almost awed. “And this?” He traces Dean’s left collarbone.

“An Enochian prayer.” Dean studies Cas’ eyes, dark and focused in the dim light of the bedroom. His lashes are so long they cast shadows on his cheeks as he blinks slowly, studying the art on Dean’s tanned skin. “You've heard of the language? Not many people have.”

“Oh, yes.” Cas smiles, lifting his gaze to Dean’s. “I have.” There's a pause. “My full name is Castiel. It means…”

“The angel of Thursday.” Now its Dean’s turn to sound awed. Cas nods, tracing the words with a fingertip and Dean shivers pleasantly.

“I was born at a minute past one on a rainy Thursday morning. Apparently, I didn't wish to breathe on my own for a while. I'm told it gave my parents quite a scare.” Cas smirks up at Dean, then his smile softens a little. “One of the nurses who looked after me told my mother she was sure I'd been touched by an angel, and that's why I'd lived. I don't know if there's any truth to that, but my mother believed it and named me accordingly.”

“Castiel.” Dean tries the name out; it feels good rolling off his tongue. “It suits you. It's beautiful.”

“I've never felt worthy of it really.” Cas shrugs, matter-of-fact. “I've never even met another person interested in angels before, let alone a person who knows what it means. But then you showed up…”

“Do you have any favourites?” Dean gestures to himself, referring to his ink. He's curious. He loves every design equally, but he wants to know which one speaks to Cas the most. Cas considers, then nudges at his hip for him to turn on his side.

“This one.” He traces the feathers of one wing, sounding lovestruck. It's the curved wing, the one that comes up to wrap around Dean’s shoulder in a mimic of an embrace, and Cas takes his time to trace every feather. “I've never seen such beauty.”

“My artist is incredible.” Dean has his head pillowed on his crooked elbow, and is staring out of the window at the lights of the city, letting Cas explore. From behind him comes a low sigh.

“I wasn't just talking about your ink, Dean.”

They trade soft, sweet smiles that turn into soft, sweet kisses with the potential to turn passionate. But Cas isn't done with his exploration of Dean’s skin just yet. He traces the Enochian words with his tongue then pulls away, and Dean’s heart pounds. Cas is looking right at the base of his sternum, where a red heart is inked in the centre, and suddenly his face is unreadable.

“Is this him?” He traces the outline of the heart then, with a touch so soft Dean can barely feel it, follows the lines of two letters, B.L., inked on the inside of the heart. Dean can only nod.

“It doesn't bother you, does it?” His voice sounds oddly choked up all of a sudden.

“Bother me?” Cas doesn't look up. He's studying the tattoo intimately, tracing the lines over and over. “No. Absolutely not. You had someone in your life who loved you and kept you safe. How could that bother me?” He glances up, and his eyes are so intense Dean has to blink a few times in order to feel stable enough to hold his gaze. “It's a privilege to lie here with you, Dean. I only wish he hadn't been ripped from you so viciously.”

“But it led me to you…” Dean hears himself say into the long silence following Castiel’s words, and a smile touches the other man’s lips.

“It did.” He kisses the apex of the heart. “It led me to you.”

Dean takes Cas to get tattooed for the first time, months later. Cas is oddly secretive about the design, sending Dean from the room despite looking pale and nervous, and comes out an hour later looking shaky and even more pale but satisfied.

“Let me see!” Dean grins eagerly at him, his fingers already itching to pull back Cas’ sleeve to see his wrist. “Cas, show me!”

“Just a minute, let me pay.”

Outside, Dean can't wait any longer. He takes Cas’ hand - gently, mindful of the tender skin - and pulls his sleeve up, then the words he was already preparing get lost somewhere between his mind and his lips. Cas has two small, beautiful, intricate angel wings tattooed onto the inside of his left wrist. They look like a miniature version of Dean’s, and he's left speechless and so touched he feels himself start to well up.

“They remind me of you,” Cas says quietly. “I hope you like them.”

“Like them…? Cas, they're…” Dean can't find the words. He swallows around a lump of emotion and tugs Cas’ hand to bring him close for a kiss. “Perfect. Just like you.”

“Just like us.” Cas adds, tapping Dean gently on the nose and following his touch with a kiss. Dean doesn't stop smiling the whole way home, and spends most of the evening with his hand linked with Cas’, just staring at the tiny, beautiful angel wings. And thinking.

It turns out Dean does have space on his neck for just one more tattoo. The initials C.C., followed by a small pink heart, fit perfectly.

#destiel ficlet #destiel trope #trope fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #destiel #punk Dean #punk Dean Winchester #fanfiction #fanfic #coffeeandcas

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